Falling Stars
by JR-Boone
Summary: "We're all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." -Oscar Wilde-Stand alone piece. Has nothing to do with Leave Me Alone I'm Lonely Verse.
1. Chapter 1

Fic: Falling Stars  
>Chapter: One<br>Author: JR Boone  
>Rating: M for strong sexual themes and violence. Also I have the mouth of a sailor so every other word is a curse usually.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything having to do with it. I wish I did. LOL that would be awesome. It would be like The L Word only musical.**  
>AN: This has nothing to do with my Leave Me Alone, I'm Lonely verse. It's just something that I had to get out of my system. Probably six to eight chapters with a few time jumps here and there. **

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><p><em><strong>Can we pretend that airplanes in the night's sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now…<strong>_

_** -B.O.B.**_

Santana Lopez slowly took a swig out of the beer she had been nursing for a few minutes and smiled at the antics of her friends. The twenty-five year old was currently out celebrating one of her colleagues impending marriages with a bachelor party that had so far taken the New Yorkers through four bars, a cab ride, and had now landed them at a rather seedy strip club in Eastern Queens. It was going on one a.m. now and most of the group was completely trashed. Santana had decided that she would stay mostly sober for the night so at least one person would be in their right mind, and also because of a party in Junior High she refused to elaborate on.

Life after High School had been good for the Latina. With a scholarship granted to Latina American females and a GPA of 3.8 the former Cheerio had been accepted to NYU before Christmas Break had even let out during her Senior year. With additional money from her father the girl had been able to completely throw herself into her studies and had been swooped up by one of the most prestigious law firms in New York directly after graduating Magna Caum Laude and a year early to boot.

The Latina's natural caustic attitude and drive had ensured that she had risen quickly within the firm and it was projected that if she kept winning cases the way she was then she would grab a partnership in the firm in a little less than three years.

The only drawback of living life the way she did was that it left her little time for a social life, which was odd for the girl that had once been the center of every party in High School. She had kept up with a few of her old classmates after High School ended but not as strongly as she would have liked. After their Nationals win at the end of Senior year they had all sworn to keep in touch, but after a year of college most of them had gone their separate ways. It wasn't ill feelings, just the inevitable drive of separate lives and separate dreams.

The ones that she had kept in touch with she talked to at least once a week on the phone or online. Brittany had been noticed at Nationals by a talent scout and was currently touring Europe with the prestigious Russian Ballet as their Prima Ballerina.

Puck had moved out west to California and actually owned a very successful pool maintenance business in Beverly Hills, every time they talked he regaled her with stories of which celebrities pools he had been cleaning lately and Santana had smiled warmly at a picture of him being spotted making out with Hollywood's latest starlet.

Quinn was the only one that Santana had really stayed in touch with in the end. Both girls' had moved to New York together and shared a dorm room at NYU until Quinn had graduated and moved on to Columbia for medical school. The blonde was currently ending up her third year of medical school and between her classes and the work she did at a free clinic in Brooklyn the two rarely saw each other beyond their bi-weekly drink night that had become customary since their first year.

The years had matured Santana a great deal. The process had started the day she walked in to the Choir Room Sophomore year and had continued gradually has time had gone on. Even by the end of the Senior Year of High School everyone was beginning to get glimpses of the woman that Santana could one day become. The girl now sitting at the sticky table watching her drunken colleagues in amusement was sure of herself in every way. She no longer looked to anyone but herself for self-justification and she was damn proud of everything she had made of herself, if not a little cocky. Because yes she had matured over the years beyond being an insecure bully, but the fire that burned in Santana Lopez's heart was still going strong. She would still cut a bitch if needed and it was that attitude that made her an amazing lawyer.

She flagged down one of the shamefully dressed waitress walking past and called for another round of drinks for her friends, admitting to herself at least that it never hurt to appease those you worked with, especially when one of their fathers owned the whole damn law firm.

The drinks arrived to a volley of cheers at their table and Santana graciously raised her glass when they toasted to her life in general. Their attention was drawn to the stage by a rather sketchy looking guy in a disgusting polyester suit whose dark hair was slicked back into a pony tail. The man was slightly overweight and held a cigar behind one ear, his hands adorned with golden rings as he clutched the microphone. To Santana he was what she liked to call an un-winnable case, because no matter if he was innocent or not he was clearly the kind of person that any normal human would love to stick behind bars just in case.

"Ladies and Gentlemen I would personally like to thank all of you for coming out to the Pussy Box tonight! We've had a great evening so far and we're gonna keep the ball rolling with one of our favorite girls," he said, his voice nearly very literally dripping with slime. "So let's give a big dick up for our own Gold Star! Cherry Berry!" He yelled walking off the stage to the jeers and cheers of what Santana assumed were the clubs regular audience.

The lights went dim in the club as a spotlight hit the strip club in the center of the stage that disappeared above to a second floor. As music one would associate with cheap porn started booming through the speakers a tanned body dressed only in a matching set of black underwear and a red negligee began to slowly slide down the pole from above, legs spread wide open.

The catcalls of the crowd grew louder all around her and Santana rolled her eyes at the lewd comments, but couldn't deny the tightening she felt in her loins at the sight before her eyes. The girl continued her downward slide gracefully and Santana noticed a slight pause only when a rather drunken idiot next to the stage let out a bark of laughter and loudly exclaimed that, "there wasn't anything Cherry about that slut!"

When the girl hit the ground she lay still for just a second before flipping over backwards and standing up straight, quickly launching herself at the pole which she latched a tone leg around and began to spin outwards as she tossed off the negligee. Santana was joining in the boisterous cheering until the girl spun their way and then she literally felt all of the breath leave her body.

She would know that girl from anywhere. She had grown up with that girl her entire life, that girl had been one of her favorite targets for her misplaced anger. Rachel Berry in all her glory was spinning on a pole less than twenty feet away from Santana in nothing but a bra, g-string, and painfully glazed over smile.

Tears almost sprang to her eyes at the sight before her and Santana wanted to look away so badly that it hurt. But she couldn't, it was like an accident on the side of the road. The years had been kind to Rachel in the sense that she was still beautiful, but it was obvious that the girl had been through glaringly hard times.

From her seat Santana could make out the girl's ribs pressing against tanned skins mottled with faint bruises. The girl had very obviously had a boob job and Santana winced when she caught sight of a scar on the underside of her left breast when the former Diva tossed her bra across the room to the cheers of the men surrounding the stage.

Even through all of the girl's stage makeup Santana could make out dark rings under her eyes and what appeared to be the end of a blackened eye. Letting her eyes rake over the girl Santana had to fight back the urge to scream when she saw heroin track marks running down the girl's arms, the lightness of them devastatingly obvious against the girl's dark skin.

Every time Rachel looked in their direction Santana concentrated on the girl's eyes, searching desperately for the spark of life the girl had once had in them, completely disappeared now behind eyes glazed over by drugs.

As the girl pressed her ass into a guy's face to receive the money he had been holding up Santana felt her body become possessed by the urge to run up on the stage and take the girl away from all of the perverts surrounding the stage simultaneously gouging out all their eyes with the tiny brunette's stilettos. . She had just stood out of her seat when she felt a hand on her shoulder, breaking her out of her anger induced haze.

Turning around she was met with the greasy haired announcer who was staring at her smiling, showing off two front teeth cast in gold and a cigar dangling between his lips. "You like what you see up there?" He asked sneering.

"I need to talk to that girl," Santana demanded stepping into his space.

"Whoa whoa little girl, this is a business and I own that girl up there. If you wanna 'talk' to her," he said putting quotations on the word talk, "you can do so after you pay for a lap dance."

"How much is it?" Santana ground out snatching up her purse and pulling out her wallet.

"Ten bucks for ten minutes or fifteen for twenty Sweetheart," he said holding out a grubby hand.

"I want a private booth for twenty," Santana demanded holing on to her money.

"That'll be an extra twenty Firecracker," he said gleefully chewing on his cigar. Santana slapped the money into his hand and glared at him menacingly. "All right Sweet Thing here you go, stall twelve," he said handing her a key and pointing to a hallway to the left of the stage.

Santana flew past him and ran down the hall way as quickly as she could, jerking open her door and slamming it behind her. She tried to calm her furious breathing and sank into the couch directly in front of a small stage with a sliver pole in the middle of it.

Thoughts and feelings were racing through her body at close to a mile a second and it took everything she had in her to not break out into sobs. She was furious, disgusted, and devastated all at the same time and she had to lean over and put her face in the palms of her hand to get her breathing under control. "Oh god I was turned on by her," Santana growled, hating her self at the thought.

Her head snapped up when the latch on the door turned and her eyes instantly locked with the tiny brunettes the second the girl had stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The former Diva stared at the girl for a millisecond smiling before her hazy eyes cleared and she recognized the girl staring at her from the couch.

Each one was shocked into silence and Santana once again felt the air leave her body when upon closer inspection of the girl's body she realized that her once perfect skin was marred with scars and bruises, the once tan color now had taken on a sickening yellow tint that was glaringly obvious under the bright white light above them.

Santana had not seen the former diva in six years and had barely thought of her in five. The last time she had laid eyes on Rachel Berry was the summer after their Freshman year of college. Despite being in the same city none of the girl's had bumped into each other that first year at all. Not that any of them really care. While by the end of Senior Year Quinn and Santana no longer were downright hateful towards the shorter brunette, they were no where near friends.

Santana had seen the girl twice during that summer break, the first time a week after all of the original Glee kids had returned from their respective colleges for a BBQ at Mr. Schue's house; the second time when she had respectfully attended Rachel's father's funerals after the men had been hit by a drunk driver. The details of the crash had been sparse but from what Santana had gathered both of the men had died upon impact and Rachel had walked away without a scratch.

The girl had looked so tiny standing in between Puck and Finn and Santana had gone up and given her an awkward hug, telling her to give her call sometime when she got back to the city. After that she had left, with the attitude one does when leaving the funeral of someone they never met out of kindness for a person they never really liked.

Santana and Quinn had been back at school for about five months when they received a call from Puck asking if either of them had heard from Rachel at all. Both girls hadn't and they told the boy so, but promised to try and get in touch with her. Santana and Quinn had both attempted to contact her, the Latina even going as far as to contact Julliard to track the girl down. The woman on the other end of the line had simply told Santana that Rachel had dropped out four months into the semester and not left a mailing address or phone number to be reached at.

Santana had passed the knowledge on to Puck a little surprised and bit worried, but after not to long the feelings had abated. She had simply assumed that Rachel had moved away or perhaps met someone. Quinn and her had even shared a spiteful laugh at the thought of Rachel ending up in a shot-gun wedding with some theatre guy.

Staring at the girl in front of her now the Latina couldn't believe her eyes. Desperately she wracked her brain for any sound reasoning or maybe a sign that could explain how the girl destined for Broadway had turned into a stripper in one of the biggest shit holes in New York City.

A knock on the door telling them they had ten minutes left snapped both girls out of their thoughts and Santana's eyes snapped back up to Rachel's, which had cleared up completely in the last ten minutes. The girl shook her head quickly and jumped up on the stage, her hands shaking as she grabbed a hold of the bar.

"Rachel stop," Santana said, closing her eyes tightly when the girl made to start dancing.

"This is my job Santana and you paid for it," Rachel said, her voice dripping with sarcasm and she began to lazily spin around the bar.

"I wanted to talk to you," Santana ground out as she jumped off of the couch intending to get Rachel to sit down with her. Rachel visibly flinched at the Latina's quick move and outstretched hands and stumbled backwards a big, her eyes wide with fear. "Fuck…I'm not going to hurt you," Santana said stilling in place.

Rachel quickly recovered and returned to the bar, "why not? You paid for it," she said plainly as she resumed her lazy dancing movements.

"Damnit Berry I didn't pay for this! I paid to talk to you," Santana yelled angrily whilst rubbing her temples.

"What the hell could we possibly have to talk about Santana?" Rachel spit out, her voice dripping with venom. "You wanna rub it in my face that I ended up the stripper and you didn't, well fucking go for it bitch, but I'm getting paid to dance and if my ass isn't on the pole when security looks at the cameras then I'm screwed, so talk from the damn couch."

"What the hell happened to you?" Santana asked at a loss for words as she sank back onto the couch.

"Life happened," Rachel said morosely as she jumped up onto the bar and held onto it with her legs. "You guys were all right, I wasn't anything special."

"That is crap," Santana said snapping her head up fiercely.

"No that is just a cold hard fact," Rachel murmured.

"Where did Rachel Berry go?" Santana asked, looking deep into the girl's eyes. A bang on the door signaling their time was up caused Rachel quickly dismounted from the pole and head to the door.

"Don't bother looking for Rachel Berry Santana…she died in a car crash didn't you hear?" She said sweeping out of the stall.

Santana sat in silence for close to a minute before a large bouncer popped his head in and told her if she wanted another girl she had to come out and pick one. Santana glared at him as she jumped off the couch and headed out of the room, heading back into the main club part and stalking over to her table. At this point her colleagues were completely blitzed and hadn't even realized the Latina had left.

Grabbing her beer the woman chugged it down as her eyes darted around the club for the former diva. Finally she spotted her just off of the corner of the stage very obviously doing a line of cocaine and growled. She kept her eyes trained on the girl and when the sleazy club announcer hopped on the stage to do an intro for her again Santana grabbed a chair at the front of the stage and threw her body into it.

As the girl danced Santana glared at any man who so much as looked at her and less than halfway through the girl's dance most of the men had moved onto a different stage, leaving the Latina to stare up at the petite woman. As more and more people began to leave Rachel became more and more aggravated, her dance movements becoming jerky and forced as she fought to keep a smile plastered on her face.

Santana kept up the pattern for the last hours the club was opened, following the girl with her eyes and physically intimidating any man who came near her. By the end of the night Rachel's face was red with fury any time her eyes locked onto Santana and the Latina saw the girl knocking back multiple lines of Coke as she was ushered out the door with the rest of the patrons.

Making sure her colleagues were safely taking off in cabs Santana leant up against a wall across from the Club door and waited. After about twenty minutes the doors flew open and Rachel stormed out wearing a tube top and a pair of shorts despite the coolness of the air.

The woman clearly saw the Latina but just stomped right past her, not bothering to hide her obvious fury. "Rachel wait up!" Santana yelled chasing after the brunette.

"Leave me alone Santana!" Rachel yelled as she turned a corner onto a dimly lit street and marched over to a payphone, not bothering to go into it though, just leaning against it facing the street.

"I want to talk to you Rachel," Santana demanded as she marched up to the girl.

"Well that is too fucking bad Santana because your stubborn ass scared away all of my tips for two hours so now I have to make up that money at my second job or I'm dead meat," Rachel ground out, stamping her foot angrily and exhibiting a slight bit of her old personality.

"Fuck how about this, I give you a ride to your other job, and we can talk then," Santana pleaded almost desperately.

"Really Santana!" Rachel barked out and started to laugh humorously. "Where else do you think I fucking work?" Rachel sneered as a car started to slow down until it came to a stop before them. Quickly Rachel hustled over and leant into the open passenger's side window.

Suddenly it clicked in Santana's head what Rachel's "second job" was and the Latina woman growled furiously as she stomped over to Rachel and pulled her away from the window. "Leave now!" She barked at the creepy looking guy in the car who just nodded and sped off into the night.

"What the hell Santana!" Rachel yelled. "You just can't come in here on your white fucking horse and do this! This isn't a movie! This is my life and I need that money he was gonna give!"

"What for Rachel? So you can go get fucked up?" Santana demanded stepping into the girl's face.

"So what if that's it?" Rachel asked getting nose to nose with the Latina woman. "I bet it's really fucking funny for you to see me like this, well have a good look, have a good laugh, and then get the hell out of here!"

"You know you said Rachel Berry died in a car accident but that's not true is it?" Santana asked crossing her arms.

"Don't." Rachel demanded turning away from the Latina.

"Rachel Berry is still alive; she's just fucking killing herself slowly like a chicken."

Rachel spun around furiously and pressed a finger into Santana's chest, "don't act like you know who I am Santana Lopez. You do not and have never known who I am."

"I know that you're better than this crap," Santana ground out angrily.

"Just go the fuck away!" Rachel yelled losing her temper and pushing the Latina back by the shoulders.

"What the hell is going on here!" Came a booming voice and Santana jerked her head to the left to see the skeezy announcer from earlier walking up to them.

"Nothing Mickey," Rachel said shrinking back quickly as the man got to them.

"Nothing Mickey my ass, what the fuck are you doing out her? You should be out making money bitch," the sleazy man demanded, his face red.

"I was just talking-" Rachel started but stopped instantly when Mickey raised a large hand in the air threateningly.

"Do not fucking touch her," Santana demanded stepping in between them and looking at the man menacingly.

"Oh it's the talker," Mickey sneered. "Listen bitch get the fuck out of here so I can earn back some of the money you lost me tonight," he said dismissively shooing the woman away.

"How much?" Santana ground out for the second time that night.

Realizing that the woman had just turned into a paying customer Mickey smiled viciously. "For you Firecracker we can work out an hourly rate," he said chuckling.

"I want her for a week," Santana demanded reaching into her purse.

"A week?" The man asked in disbelief. "Look if you wanna drop that much dough lets go find you a nicer girl. Cherry here is one of my five dollar specials," he said laughing spitefully.

"I want her," Santana ground out.

"Alright alright," he said holding up his hands. Putting a hand on his chin he looked Santana up and down before running his eyes over Rachel. "Considering all the money I'm not gonna make from both jobs I got her hired for it's gonna run you two grand," he said laughing as she crossed his hairy arms.

"Deal," Santana snapped out as she began counting out money, thankful that she had taken so much out of the bachelor party earlier only to find out that her co-worker's father was paying for the whole thing.

"Pleasure doing business with you Sweetheart," the man laughed before looking over to Rachel and pulling a baggy out of his pants. He tossed the bag of powder to the girl and broke out laughing when Rachel dove to the pavement to retrieve it. "Make it last Cherry cause your ass is hers for a week," he said laughing again as she walked off greedily counting his money.

Santana glared at him until her turned the corner and then quickly kneeled down next to the brunette and pulled her to her feet. Rachel glared up at her as she clutched the bag of coke to her chest. "I hate you," she ground out.

"This is me not caring what you think about me," Santana said as she flipped open her cellphone and quickly called for a cab. Snapping the phone closed she looked at the brunette whose face was a mask of anger and realized she was shivering. Santana rolled her eyes she quickly shrugged off her coat and wrapped it around the diva that simply pulled it around her self the best she could with one hand, her other still clutching her bag of powder.

The two stood in silence for a few minutes before a cab rolled up to them and called out Santana's name. Grabbing the petite girl's hand Santana drug her into the cab and reached over shutting the door. "71 Broadway," she barked out at the driver and leant back in her seat.

"Manhattan?" Rachel asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.

"Yah Manhattan," Santana said sighing.

They rode in complete silence with the exception of the radio playing lightly and it surprised both girls when they stopped in front of Santana's apartment. Quickly the Latina tossed some bills at him and pulled the former diva out of the car and into the building.

Santana kept the girl's hand in hers as the elevator slowly rose to the 15th floor. She considered what the hell she was doing but couldn't come up with anything except the mantra you have to save her, you have to save her.

Rachel was silent as Santana led her into her apartment and the Latina watched the woman's face closely as her eyes swept over the posh apartment that the law firm had hooked her up with. Santana stepped away and sat her purse down as Rachel took a few uneasy steps into the living area, her hands shaking silently as she took everything in. She stopped at the large windows and looked out them down at the city below her and the street she had always dreamed of. Santana stood silently as she looked at the girl's reflection in the mirror and her heart broke a little as a tear rolled down the girl's cheek.

Quietly she stepped closer to the brunette and she winced when she saw dark finger-shaped bruise marks that were fading on the girl's thighs and peaking above her shorts. As if sensing the Latina was getting closer Rachel moved away from the window and started studying the pictures on the Latina's mantle piece.

There were a few of her and Quinn, some of her family and in the middle was the group picture of the Glee Club surrounding the Nationals trophy at the end of Senior Year. Rachel's lips quirked up in a small smile as she looked at her and Santana's joined hands, something that had for some reason become tradition after their Sophomore year.

"Rachel," Santana whispered, coming up from behind the girl and slowly running a hand down the girl's arm that was clutching the baggy of coke. Under her finger's Santana felt the girl's body loosen and she breathed a sigh of relief when she was allowed to gently pry the drugs out of the girl's hand.

Finally it seemed that all of the events of the night and the last six years caught up with the woman and she sunk to the floor with deep heaving sobs. Santana instantly dropped to the floor next to her and gathered the brunette in her arms, refusing to let go even after the woman beat on her chest in anguish.

"Why? Why are you here!" She screamed angrily. "I wanted to die!" Tears sprung to the Latina's eyes at the girl's words and just tightened her arms. "Don't you get it! I was ready!"

"I know you were sweetie," Santana murmured into the woman's ear. "But I can't let you."

"Why not?" Rachel cried out.

"Because this is not how your story ends Rachel. I'm not going to let you slowly commit suicide."

"But I'm so useless now," the girl sobbed out.

"No you're not beautiful. You're just broken…I'm going to fix you," Santana said her voice leaving no doubt to her determination.

"You can't," Rachel cried, her body beginning to weaken and go slack in the Latina's arms.

"Yes I can," Santana said standing up and pulling the feather-light woman into her arms. She walked quickly into her bedroom and lay the already sleeping brunette down on her bed. Heading into her bathroom she was quick to pour of the contents of the bag into her toilet and flush it, making sure to wash out the inside of it as well. Tossing away the bag Santana washed her hands and grabbed a washrag, quickly wetting it and then walking back into the bedroom. Sitting down on the edge of the bed she pulled Rachel to her and gently wiped the girl's stage make-up off, fighting back the urge to vomit when she uncovered a mess of bruises on the girl's face that the make-up had been hiding.

Steeling her stomach she went over to her dresser and quickly changed into sleep clothing before bringing some back over to the bed and carefully undressing the brunette and shoving her into a set of pajamas. She thanked god that she had been given the weekend off as she turned off her alarm clock and put her phone on silent. She was about to get into the bed when she had a thought and quickly walked over to her bathroom. After rifling through her medicine cabinet she made sure to take out everything stronger than Tylenol and shoved it all in a box. Quickly she carried it out into the living room and deposited it on the coffee table.

Padding back to her bedroom she grabbed her keys and locked her bedroom door, thankful for once that she had paid extra for the double locking doors she had purchased in case she was ever robbed. Making sure the brunette was still asleep Santana slipped the key off the ring before reaching up and letting the key fall into a light sconce.

Content that the woman wouldn't be able to get up and get a fix and/or leave before they could actually talk she carefully crawled into the bed. She looked at the brunette's battered face for a few seconds before the events of the evening finally caught up with her and her body began to shake with quieted sobs.

She tried to control her noise level but after a few minutes of crying Rachel's eyes fluttered open and for a second Santana saw that girl from so long ago that would drop everything if a friend was upset. Rachel swallowed once and closed her eyes before scooting her body against the Latina's and resting her head gingerly on the woman's shoulder.

Santana wrapped her arms tightly around the girl as he continued to cry, letting out a sob when she felt Rachel's ribs poking against her palm. "I'm going to fix you," she promised through her tears.

Rachel was silent after the declaration but the girl nestled closer into the Latina's side. Santana assumed she had fallen asleep until she heard the woman's soft whisper, "please do…"

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><p><strong>What do you guys think?<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Fic: Falling Stars  
>Chapter: Two<br>Author: JR Boone  
>Rating: M for strong sexual themes and violence. Also I have the mouth of a sailor so every other word is a curse usually.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything having to do with it. I wish I did. LOL that would be awesome. It would be like The L Word only musical.**  
>AN: This has nothing to do with my Leave Me Alone, I'm Lonely verse. It's just something that I had to get out of my system. Probably six to eight chapters with a few time jumps here and there.****  
>Easter Egg: There is a line hidden in here from the musical episode of Xena entitled the Bitter Suite. First person to point it out gets a smutty or fluffy one-shot of their choosing at least a thousand words long. Hint: Santana says the first line and then Rachel says the next line but it's not complete.<strong>

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><p>"<em><strong>There were so many fewer questions when stars were still just the holes to heaven..." - Jack Johnson<strong>_

The sudden sound of distant pounding on her front door sent Santana flying off the bed in a flurry of blankets and pillows. Quickly she ran across her room looking over her shoulder to ensure that Rachel was still sleeping soundly. The Latina had barely slept a wink all night, afraid that if she dozed off for even a minute that Rachel would leave and she would never be able to find the girl again. Instead she had lay in bed the entire night holding onto the girl for all she was worth.

She had studied her closely, if albeit almost creepily, her eyes running over every curve and dip of the girl's body, and every bruise and scar that marred it. She was glad that Rachel was so exhausted because the girl had not woken up once, even when the Latina had moved her body gently a few times to inspect her different parts. Most if not all of it looked like a war zone. There were cuts on the inside of the tiny diva's thighs that Santana could only assume were self inflicted, she had a grouping of crescent shaped bite scars on one hip, her arms had extremely pronounced track marks from injecting drugs, and Santana had nearly put her fist through a wall when she found a series of burns that looked like they had been made by cigars; her mind instantly going to the slimy pimp from last night.

In addition to all of that Santana had uncovered four tattoos that she had been too preoccupied to notice last night. In small elegant script on her left wrist was the name Hiram and on her right was the name Leroy. It was the other two tattoos that simultaneously broke Santana's heart and gave her hope though. Both were lines of music notes and Santana had spent close to an hour searching the internet for the songs they belonged to.

Running just under the girl's right breast were the opening musical notes to the song Gloomy Sunday by Billie Holiday. Santana had sucked in a pained breath as she read the song and realized what exactly it meant. The song was blatantly saying that she had given up. The other musical notes ran across the former diva's shoulders and were the musical notes to the song Blackbird  by the Beatles. As Santana read the lyrics to this song she allowed her heart to fill up with hope, because the words in this song expressed that the girl had not given up. The problem was Santana couldn't figure out which tattoo came first.

The girl had stayed soundlessly asleep the whole night but had tossed and turned frequently, her tired bruised face marred with a frown and furrowed brows even when she slept. Santana had pondered to herself what in the world had happened to Rachel Berry that caused the girl to look so unhappy even in her sleep.

Reaching her bedroom door she had jumped once and managed to scoop her room key out of the wall sconce, slamming the key into the lock she spared another glance to the still sleeping brunette and tore out of the room; closing the door quickly behind her to muffle the knocks which had turned to booming pounds at this point. The Latina sprinted through her roomy apartment and threw herself at the door, rapidly pulling away her chain lock and turning the dead bolt before throwing her door open and forcing a startled Quinn backwards into the hallway before shutting the door behind her.

"What the fuck Santana?" Quinn yelled tearing off her sunglasses and looking at Santana like was crazy.

"Would you keep your voice down Fabray? Why the hell were you trying to knock my door down?" Santana asked pushing the blonde down the hall a bit and glancing back to her door.

"Um because we're supposed to hang out today and your lazy ass wasn't answering the phone," Quinn said and then glared at the Latina when she instantly began to shush her. "What the hell? Do you have a coyote ugly in there or something?" Quinn asked looking back over to the Latina's front door.

"Look it's a long story and I'll tell you but you have to keep your fucking voice down," Santana said rubbing her temples and walking towards her door.

"What does the girl have super-sonic hearing or some crap?" Quinn whispered as they slipped back into the apartment.

"Actually she is dead to the world right now, and I would like to keep it that way," Santana whispered motioning for Quinn to stay in place. Quickly she walked back to her bedroom door and silently opened the door. Peering into the room she let out a sigh of relief when she saw Rachel still sleeping soundlessly, her brow still furrowed together.

Santana froze when she heard a gasp behind her and turned around to see Quinn staring into the room like a deer caught in headlights. Before the blonde could even open her mouth Santana had shut the bedroom door again and pushed/pulled the former cheerleader back into the living room, whispering for her to keep her mouth shut the entire way.

Looking back at her bedroom door for a second Santana shoved the blonde down onto the couch and dropped down next to her, face in the palms of her hands. "That was…what the hell…that was her right?" Quinn asked in shock.

"Yah that was her," Santana whispered shaking her head as a tear managed to escape her eye.

"What…what happened to her," Quinn said choking on her own words as the image of a battered Rachel Berry came to mind.

"I don't know yet Q…I don't know," Santana sighed.

"Where did you find her?"

"At that bachelor party I went to last night. She was…one of the strippers," Santana said gagging on the word.

"No." Quinn said shaking her head. "Rachel Freaking Berry would never become a stripper."

"There's more," Santana whispered, wincing as she put her next words together carefully.

"How can there be more?" Quinn asked in disbelief.

"She's…fuck…fuck Quinn she was trying to sell her body after her shift and she's using drugs," Santana said fighting down the urge to vomit simply because she was vocalizing something she had known for hours.

"How the hell did this happen?" Quinn asked jumping off of the couch. "Why is she here with you?" Quinn asked accusingly turning on the Latina with fire in her eyes.

"Don't even think about that for a fucking second Fabray," Santana said jumping off the couch. "She's here because I wasn't about to let her stay out there for another second goddamnit," Santana ground out furiously.

Seeing the fury behind the woman's words Quinn deflated and sank back down onto the couch. "I'm sorry San…I shouldn't have jumped to that," Quinn said sadly.

"Jumped to what? Jumped to the conclusion that I saw Rachel Berry blown out of her mind of Coke and decided that since she was selling I was buying?" Santana asked angrily.

"Yah…I shouldn't have jumped to that," Quinn whispered.

Instantly the Latina's fury left her body and was replaced with an overwhelming sadness. Her body crumpled to the floor in front of Quinn and the pre-med student just barely managed to scoop the Latina up into her arms. "I have to fix her," Santana cried out in anguish, grabbing a hold of the blonde's shirt and pulling her tightly against her body.

The two sat on the floor for half an hour before Santana's sobs began to subside and the blonde pulled her onto the couch. Slowly the Latina told the pre-med student the entire story. Starting with the second Rachel slid down that pole and ending with all of the various observations she had made about the woman's broken and bruised body, until finally Santana leant back and wiped her swollen face before letting out an exhausted yawn. "Santana did you sleep at all last night?" Quinn asked pulling the Latina against her body.

"I couldn't I was afraid she would leave if I did," Santana admitted letting her eyes shut.

"Sweetheart this is crazy. You can't just stay awake and watch her. You can't help her if she doesn't want it," Quinn said into the girl's ear.

"Like hell I can't," Santana said angrily moving away from the blonde.

"Look I understand. We grew up with her and I want to help her too but I work with people like her day in and day out at the clinic-"

"No." Santana growled out interrupting the blonde. "You can't just say people like her. There are no people like her. This is Rachel Berry."

"Yes that is Rachel Berry in there," Quinn said carefully. "But it is not the Rachel we knew Santana."

"She's still in there," Santana said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Santana I'm not saying don't try but you have to remember-"

"No Quinn I don't have to remember anything, but you know what I do remember every time I look at her?" Santana growled out not even pausing so the blonde could answer, "I remember a girl who was so full of hope and dreams. And we tore her down constantly. Why? Because she dressed bad? Because she was bossy? Because she had two fathers? You know as well as I do that we tortured that girl in there day in and day out because we were jealous of her. We made her feel like shit constantly just so at the end of the day we could feel a little bit better about ourselves."

"Santana you can't be blaming yourself for her life."

"No I'm not blaming myself. I'm blaming all of us. Each and every single one of us who tossed a slushy in her face. Every single one of us that called her Manhands and Treasure Trail. She didn't deserve that shit. And it looks like it fucking worked because not one of her dreams came true."

"We got better," Quinn defended weakly.

"Oh yah sure we got better. We got so fucking great that when her fathers died, the only people in the world who loved her unconditionally, we said our 'Condolences' and went on with our lives when she needed us the most. Yah Quinn we got a hell of a lot better," raged out.

"Why is this so important to you San?" Quinn asked, a large tear rolling down her shamed face.

"Because Rachel told me she believed me." Santana snapped out without thinking.

"What?" Quinn asked, her face a mask of confusion.

"Sectionals sophomore when the set list got leaked and everyone blamed me. She looked me square in the eyes and said that she believed me when I said I didn't do it damnit. She didn't have any fucking reason to believe me but she did. And now I'm going to return the feeling and believe in her," Santana said her voice deadly serious.

"I had completely forgotten about that," Quinn admitted rubbing her face in exhaustion.

"I never did."

"Ok." Quinn said sitting up straight and putting her hands on her lap. She let out a deep breath and then looked up at the Latina, "Okay. You said that she was high on coke? Do you know if that is all she is on?"

"She's got track marks on her arms," Santana said sitting down next to the blonde.

"Heroin too. I'm not going to lie to you Santana. If Rachel doesn't want to get clean she isn't going to. No stop. Don't interrupt," Quinn said holding up a hand. "This isn't me talking as Quinn about Rachel right now. This is Dr. Fabray speaking and you're going to listen okay."

"Alright," Santana said glaring. "What do I need to do?"

"Now like I said if Rachel is an addict and doesn't want to change that then there is nothing you can do. Addicts will do anything for that feeling. Lie. Cheat. Steal. There isn't a limit."

"Okay I get it. Get to the point where I help her," Santana ground out.

"Everyone experiences withdrawals differently Santana, but I'm going to take an educated guess that Rachel's main addiction is the heroin. The users I work with at the clinic use cocaine as a kind of bridge between injections. Do you know when the last time she used anything was?"

"The last time I saw her using was around four a.m. so about six hours ago."

"What was she using?"

"She was snorting blow when the club closed and we all got pushed outside."

"Okay…then right now her body is in the early stages of withdrawal."

"What can I expect?" Santana asked pulling out a notepad and a pen.

"The initial comedown from heroin is about six to twelve hours. If she used coke six hours ago then she was using that to bridge the gap between her highs. So right now her body is coming off of the high."

"Okay and after this comedown?" Santana asked scribbling down the information.

"This is not going to be pretty," Quinn said putting a hand on Santana's knee.

"Just give it to me Quinn."

"The next three days are going to be hell for her Santana. She is going to be craving heroin more than she craves oxygen. It's going to feel like fire is shooting through her body. She's also going to experience some pretty nasty mood swings. One second she is going to be motivated and the next second she is going to want to claw your eyes out."

"What else?" The Latina asked flipping to the next page of her notepad.

"Part of the way heroin works is to block the body's pain pathways. When you withdraw from heroin, there is a really nasty rebound effect. She is going to feel achy, particularly in the back and legs, and feel more sensitive to pain. And it's really going to suck because she is going to be throwing up the entire time while she hurts everywhere. Her body temperature is going to spike pretty bad as well, so you're gonna need to monitor it closely. You need to keep her really well hydrated because she is going to be really sweaty the entire time and probably crying because her body is going to be overproducing fluids to flush her system. And she is not going to be able to get much sleep no matter how exhausted she is."

"Fuck…" Santana said staring down at the notepad.

"Yah," Quinn answered simply, squeezing the Latina's knee.

"San this is really important. You have to make sure that if she bleeds that you don't touch it," Quinn said leveling her with a stern gaze.

"Why?" Santana sighed, her brain too exhausted for common sense.

"Because sweetheart we have to be realistic about this. Rachel has been using for god knows how long and has been prostituting herself as well. We have no ideal how many needles she has shared or how many times she has had unprotected sex. She needs to be fully tested for STDs but she isn't going to be strong enough until after the withdrawal is over."

"So you said three days. What about after that?" Santana said steeling her mind away from the terrifying thought that Rachel had done this to herself.

"Well the next three days are just going to be the peak of the withdrawals. She is still going to experience the symptoms for close to a week after that if she doesn't develop PAWS."

"What's PAWS?" Santana said furrowing her brows.

"Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome. It is the worst case scenario. If she develops that then she could be experiencing those withdrawal symptoms for weeks to months from now."

"How do I stop that from happening?" Santana asked quickly.

"There is nothing you can do about that love. It's up to Rachel's body how it experiences withdrawal. But I can tell you that PAWS is not common."

"And after that? After all of this is over? Will she be better?" Santana said hopefully.

"Physically yes…but Santana there is something you need to understand. Once you become an addict you never stop being one. If all goes smoothly than twenty, thirty years down the road Rachel will still be a recovering addict. She will always emotionally and psychologically be an addict," Quinn said, her voice dipped in sadness.

"I'm going to get her better Quinn," Santana said, not leaving any room for doubt.

"I hope you can Santana. You care for her greatly don't you?" Quinn asked resting a hand on her friends shoulder.

"I do. I actually…god can you believe I had a crush on her High School. A small one but still even under those fugly sweaters of hers I couldn't deny was a banging body," Santana admitted.

"I had no idea," Quinn said furrowing her brows.

"Yah…I never did anything about it besides a few flirty looks in the heat of the moment when she was performing…I can't help but think what if I had? What if I had gotten over myself and given it a chance," Santana said trailing off.

"You can't go back Santana. You can't sit around and say what if I had done this? Or what if I had done that? The past is unfortunately the past. But you can be there for her now. You are here for her now. And this is what is important now. Even god cannot change the past." Quinn said sagely.

Santana thought about her words for a second before she smiled for the first time in eight hours. "That god thing is a quote from Agathon isn't it Fabray?"

"Damnit you caught that," Quinn groaned.

"Hell yah I did. I knew letting you take all of those damn philosophy classes were a mistake. It's made you all freaky deep at random times."

"What can I say? I have layers," Quinn said rubbing her hands together and standing up.

"There we go, now that's better. Keep quoting Disney movies," Santana laughed as she followed the blonde to the door.

"Fuck you Lopez," Quinn said grabbing her purse off of the counter.

"Any time Blondie," Santana joked as she opened the door.

"San," Quinn said stepping out of it and turning back to her. "Call me…if you need anything. And please remember that if Rachel wants this then she can do it. But if she doesn't want this…if she doesn't want to get clean, then there is nothing you can do about it."

"I might not be able to…but I'm not going to stop trying until she is," Santana admitted leaning up against her door.

"Just…be careful San," Quinn said reaching out and grabbing a tanned hand.

"I will Quinn," Santana said weakly squeezing the blonde's hand.

"Okay I'm gonna go, but I will call every three or four hours to check on her and in about a week I'm gonna head over here and take blood and check her vitals, so make sure she knows that I'm coming."

"Ooh a home visit, how retro," Santana said chuckling.

"Whatever Lopez," Quinn said rolling her eyes. "I'm out of here."

"Goodbye Fatty," Santana said pulling the girl into a hug.

"See you later Satan," Quinn said squeezing the girl before disappearing down the hallway.

Closing the door Santana walked over to her home phone and paused a second before dialing her work number, after a few seconds her boss's secretary answered and directed the Latina to him.

"Richardson here," said the deep voice of her boss.

"Hey Mr. Richardson it's Santana Lopez."

"Oh hello Santana. What is this Mr. Richardson business. I've told you a thousand times it Michael."

"Sorry Michael but this is business."

"Business today? I figured you would be passed out with all the rest of the Bachelor Party," he said chuckling.

"Yah I'm not a big drinker," Santana explained.

"Well alright Santana what can I do for you?"

"I know this is last minute but I'm kind of stuck. My cousin got into a car accident and I need to be at her place for the next week and a half to take care of her children," Santana said, slightly proud of the lie she had come up with on the fly.

"This is really short notice," he said exhaling. "But I guess I can understand Santana. Family is the most important thing in life and I hate a lawyer who doesn't realize that. You're not leading any cases up currently are you?"

"No Sir I closed up the Jergonson and Banks case on Thursday. I do have a meeting Monday morning though with a potential client though. I was hoping that I could possibly transfer him over to James," she explained.

"Ah aiming for bonus points by sliding my son a big case are you?" Michael said laughing.

"If the glove doesn't fit," Santana said smirking to herself.

"Alright Santana. You go help your cousin. I'll give you the next two weeks off paid as long as you keep your phone available for consulting. That sound good?"

"That sounds great Michael," Santana said smiling happily.

"Gotta take care of my future Partner," Michael explained.

"Thank you for this."

"No problem. Just remember keep your phone on."

"Can do Michael."

"Goodbye Santana."

"Goodbye and thank you again," Santana said hanging up the phone.

Running a hand through her hair Santana let out an exasperated sigh and returned to her bedroom, carefully opening the door, and walking over to the still sleeping brunette. She got gingerly onto the bed and rested a hand on the girl's back.

"Did I hear Quinn Fabray out there?" Rachel said her voice muffled with sleepiness.

"Sorry did we wake you up?" Santana said slipping down next to the brunette and stroking her hair.

"No…I don't feel good," Rachel said closing her eyes tightly.

"Yah…Rachel I have to ask you something," Santana started but stopped when Rachel put a hand on her shoulder.

"I don't know if I can Santana," Rachel said burrowing into the Latina's warmth.

"I know that you can do it. And I'm going to help you through it, and someday this is going to all be a bad dream," Santana said kissing the top of the brunette's head.

"I thought I just wanted to die," Rachel said tears starting to spill out onto Santana's shoulder.

"No you didn't Rachel. You just…things got away from you," Santana said tightening her hold on the tiny woman. "Tell me how you feel. Right now. Nothing about the past. Right now"

"I hurt inside," Rachel cried out, fisting the Latina's pajama top in her hand until her knuckles were white.

"Why?" Santana asked pulling woman impossibly closer.

"My fathers," Rachel cried out in anguish.

"What about your fathers?"

"I feel so guilty and it hurts!" Rachel sobbed out.

"Why do you feel guilty?" Santana asked solemnly.

"Because damnit I want to live!" As the words left her mouth Rachel lost whatever will she had left and completely broke down in the Latina's arms, her entire body shaking violently with heart wrenching sobs.

"Then damnit Rachel live," Santana yelled out over the girl's cries. "Don't you get it love?" She asked lowering her voice and pushing chestnut locks off of the girl's face. "Your fathers loved you Rachel. They still love you, even if they are gone. Do you think that the last thought that went through their heads was I hope Rachel dies? No. They wanted you to live your life. I didn't even know them and I can tell you that they wanted you to live your dreams," Santana said, the passion in her voice managing to break through Rachel's cries.

"I don't want to die," Rachel cried weakly.

"You're not going to Rachel. You're going to stay here and I'm going to take care of you until you're better," Santana said kissing the girl's forehead which was already becoming clammy with sweat. "It's not going to be easy Rachel. It's actually really going to fucking suck. But you will get better."

"Don't give up on me," Rachel whispered, her eyelids falling from heaviness.

"I won't," Santana promised, kissing the girl's on the eye lids. "I won't."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Gloomy Sunday<strong>_

_Sunday is Gloomy, my hours are slumberless._  
><em>Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless<em>  
><em>Little white flowers will never awaken you<em>

_Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you_  
><em>Angels have no thought of ever returning you<em>  
><em>Would they be angry if I thought of joining you<em>  
><em>Gloomy Sunday<em>

_Sunday is gloomy_  
><em>with shadows I spend it all<em>  
><em>My heart and I have decided to end it all<em>  
><em>Soon there'll be flowers and prayers that are sad,<em>  
><em>I know, let them not weep,<em>  
><em>Let them know that I'm glad to go<em>

_Death is no dream,_  
><em>For in death I'm caressing you<em>  
><em>With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessing you<em>  
><em>Gloomy Sunday<em>

_Dreaming_  
><em>I was only dreaming<em>  
><em>I wake and I find you<em>  
><em>Asleep in the deep of<em>  
><em>My heart<em>  
><em>Dear<em>

_Darling I hope that my dream never haunted you_  
><em>My heart is telling you how much I wanted you<em>  
><em>Gloomy Sunday<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Blackbird<strong>_

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
><em>Take these broken wings and learn to fly<em>  
><em>All your life<em>  
><em>You were only waiting for this moment to arise<em>

_Black bird singing in the dead of night_  
><em>Take these sunken eyes and learn to see<em>  
><em>all your life<em>  
><em>you were only waiting for this moment to be free<em>

_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly_  
><em>Into the light of the dark black night.<em>

_Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly_  
><em>Into the light of the dark black night.<em>

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
><em>Take these broken wings and learn to fly<em>  
><em>All your life<em>  
><em>You were only waiting for this moment to arise,<em>  
><em>You were only waiting for this moment to arise,<em>  
><em>You were only waiting for this moment to arise<em>


	3. Chapter 3

Fic: Falling Stars  
>Chapter: Three<br>Author: JR Boone  
>Rating: M for strong sexual themes and violence. Also I have the mouth of a sailor so every other word is a curse usually.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything having to do with it. I wish I did. LOL that would be awesome. It would be like The L Word only musical.  
>AN: This has nothing to do with my Leave Me Alone, I'm Lonely verse. It's just something that I had to get out of my system. Probably six to eight chapters with a few time jumps here and there.**  
>BIG AN: THIS CHAPTER IS EXTREMELY UNPLEASANT IN PARTS. I AM WARNING NOW THAT MOST IF NOT ALL TRIGGERS ARE ON THE TABLE RIGHT NOW. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK…OH AND COMMENT!**

* * *

><p><em>When I snuff you out, I will cover the heavens and darken their stars; I will cover the sun with a cloud, and the moon will not give its light.<br>Ezekiel 32:7 King James Bible_

"No no San! Please it hurts make it stop!" Rachel yelled out, her head thrashing from side to side, trying to get away from the Latina's hands.

"I know it does sweetheart but I've gotta get it off of you," Santana said as she tried gently as possible to wipe away the heavy sheen of sweat covering the woman's face.

"Please I can't do this," Rachel wailed, clambering backwards away from the Latina only to fly back across the room to begin dry heaving into the toilet.

Quickly the terrified lawyer was by her side to pull the girl's hair away from her neck, "you can do this Rachel. I know it hurts now but-"

"No you don't know!" Rachel cried out as she tried to buck the Latina away from her. "Santana I'm on fucking fire right now! I'm telling you I can't do this!"

"And I'm telling you fucking can do this Rachel!" Santana yelled back as another round of violent dry heaves wracked the brunette's tiny body.

The last twenty-four hours had been everything Quinn had said it would be and worse. Rachel's moods were all over the place as her body pitched and heaved, burned and froze. As Santana held on to her sides to steady her over the toilet, she almost started crying at the feeling of Rachel's ribs pressing hard against her hands, a product of not being able to keep anything down for more than a few minutes.

Neither woman had slept more than an few desperate hours since Santana had found Rachel and both of them were beginning to show it. Rachel was even worse as her body tried to give out on her due to the high amount of stress it was under.

It had almost devastated Santana the first time that Rachel had said she couldn't do it and since then Santana had been doing nothing but try her hardest to somehow instill the confidence she had in the woman into the woman.

As Rachel writhed and wretched above the toilet Santana grabbed a rag and wetted it quickly, pulling the brunettes sweat soaked tank top up her back to desperately try and bring down the fever that had been ransacking the woman's body for the last day and a half.

Rachel went limp atop the toilet and Santana pulled her back into her lap, cradling her carefully against her chest. "You can do this Rachel," Santana whispered as she brushed a strand of sweaty hair out of the girl's face.

"It hurts so much San," Rachel whimpered, her entire body aching from hours of dry-heaving. A tear rolled down her reddened cheeks and Santana gently swiped it away with her thumb as she concentrated on hazy eyes.

"I know it does Love, but I promise it will be over soon. We just have to concentrate on something else right now okay?"

"Okay," Rachel said nodding weakly as she burrowed into Santana's chest. "Like what?"

"Rachel can you tell me how you ended up like this?" Santana said carefully as she kissed the girl on the forehead.

"It's not a good story," Rachel murmured, her fingers finding the edge of Santana's frayed shirt and thumbing it nervously.

"That's okay, I've sat through some really bad movies in my life," Santana said as she pulled them back against the wall of her bathroom.

"Don't judge me," Rachel whispered, her voice shaking fearfully.

"I never would Beautiful," Santana promised as she leant back against the wall and closed her eyes, letting Rachel's broken voice wash over her like an inescapable wave of ice.

* * *

><p><em> Rachel Berry's very best day out of the twelve years she went to school in Lima was the very first day of first grade. She was almost bursting with excitement as her Dads put her on the bus and that excitement had bled over to the other students in her class like an infection. She can still remember them all clearly in her head, Noah Puckerman with his Jurassic Park Backpack, Brittany Pierce with a Wishbone lunchbox, David Karofsky wearing Ninja Turtles shoes, and herself sporting a very fashionable Spice Girls t-shirt that was signed by all five of them.<em>

_ She had been so popular that day. Before they had even arrived at the elementary school she had already wowed her classmates with a spot-on performance of Britney Spear's mega-hit Hit Me Baby One More Time, and impressed them all when she announced that her Daddy had already taught her how to read big kid books and she would be glad to help them out._

_ The entire group had spilled into the first grade classroom full of energy and happiness, already promising to be bestest friends forever. After roll was called and they had learned the Pledge of Allegiance each student was called to the front of the class to tell everyone about themselves._

_ Rachel had gone last happily skipping to the front and had told them all that she was going to be an amazing actress someday living in New York City and singing on a huge stage. Then she had gone on to tell them all that she had the two best Dads in the entire world and that they gave her whatever she wanted and that they had a gigantic pool and even arcade games to play._

_ She hadn't seen it with her child's eyes, but the teacher had nearly choked on the water she was sipping when Rachel started talking about her two fathers. Quickly the woman had cut off Rachel and told her to tell the class more about being an actress, effectively steering the conversation away from the topic of her family._

_ But she couldn't steer the odd concept away from the minds of the students and when they were let out for recess they had flocked around Rachel, asking her why she had two Dads and no Mom. Rachel had just smiled brightly and told them all that some kids just didn't have a Mom but it was even better this way because two Dads meant twice the piggy back rides and twice the fun. The student's eyes had all lit up at the concept and for the rest of recess whenever house was played all the boys paired up to be Dads while the girls acted like they were Rachel Berry._

_ After recess was over the day had continued on amazingly. Rachel had answered every question right and the teacher had even let her read a story to her classmates, who had looked at her like she was royalty. At the end of the school day she had made them all promise to go home and ask their parents if they could come over to Rachel's house that weekend for a pool party and each one of them nearly ran off the bus to ask their parents._

_ It was one of the best days of Rachel's short life._

_ And the next day was one of her worst._

_ Every single student had gone home bursting with news about the brunette, eagerly telling their parents that the girl was going to be like one of The Spice Girls some day and they would always be friends with her. _

_ After the initial gushing they had all begged their parents to please please please let them go swimming at her house that weekend.. Every single parent had smiled down at their children and said that they were fine with it as long as Rachel's Mommy and Daddy were okay with it. _

_And that was the moment when each and every one of her classmates were instilled with an irrational hatred of the girl, born out of small town ignorance and child-like minds that always listened to what their Mommies and Daddies told them._

_ The next day had been horrible for Rachel. She had hopped onto the bus that morning wearing her very favorite Hello Kitty t-shirt and had expected to be greeted by the smiling faces of her bestest friends. _

_ Instead she had been met with a wall of hatred so strong that by the time they had arrived to school the little girl was already in tears. Some of the students had simply backed away from her and ignored her, but more than a few of them had started repeating the things that their parents had told them last night._

_ "Your Dads aren't awesome, they are fags," this one from Azimio Adams._

_ "My Dad said your Dads are sinning against god and that they are going to hell and taking you with them," this from Stacy Beckham. _

_ "My Mommy said that your parents are bad people and that I have to stay away from you or else I'll get bad too," rang out Jacob Ben-Israel. _

_ The insults came left and right at Rachel. Each one becoming worse and worse through out the day until David Karofsky pushed her down during recess and kicked sand in her face. By that point Rachel was near hysterical and one of her fathers was called to come pick her up._

_ It was a pattern that continued on for the next twelve years of her life. During that time Rachel had grown an exceptionally thick skin towards bullying. Whenever someone bullied her she would simply throw her nose up in the air and storm away from them, another pattern that continued on for the next twelve years._

_ It grew worse the older Rachel got when her mind started to emotionally and mentally mature light years ahead of her classmates, but her body lagged behind greatly. She gained a reputation for being a know-it-all, for being bossy and selfish, and for talking to much about stuff no one cared about. _

_ She never really had any friends until her Sophomore year of High School and even then they weren't very strong. By that point all of the students at McKinley either avoided Rachel like the plague or went out of their way to torture her._

_ She had even managed to date a few guys here and there, but each relationship ended badly. With Finn it was the simple fact that they were simply incompatible with each other and spent more time fighting and breaking up then they did being together, Noah had only dated her because he wanted to be a good Jew, and Jesse had only dated her to manipulate her._

_ By the time Senior Year had rolled around Rachel was ecstatic to be leaving that small town behind her. She had managed to make friends with her Glee Club team members by that point, but the friendships were shaky at best and hadn't lasted very much past the first few months of college. It wasn't that they didn't like Rachel; it was just that their lives had all gone different ways and they simply couldn't keep up with a girl barely any of them really knew. _

* * *

><p>Thirty-one hours into Rachel's withdrawal the first words out of Quinn's mouth when Santana flew across her room to answer the phone were "How's Berry doing?"<p>

"She's asleep right now," Santana whispered as she slipped out of her room.

"That's good. How much sleep as she gotten?"

"I would say all together about four," Santana sighed as she flopped down on her couch and rubbed her temple.

"What about you?" Quinn asked softly.

"Maybe two."

"Jesus Christ San you need to get some sleep," Quinn groaned exasperatedly.

"I will when this is over," Santana said sighing.

"No you need to get it now."

"I will get some when this over," Santana ground out angrily as she sipped on a cup of cold coffee that had been sitting on her end table for the better part of a day.

"San…I know this means a lot to you but you need to remember your health," Quinn murmured.

"Look Quinn I get it, you're trying to be a good friend but damnit I don't need it right now. I will concentrate on my health when Rachel isn't running to the bathroom every ten minutes to try and throw up her organs," the Latina said exhaustedly.

"You are so fucking stubborn sometime Lopez. Why are you so invested in her?" Quinn snapped out, clearly not giving two shits at the moment about Rachel Berry.

"Because someone fucking has to be!" Santana yelled out furiously.

Quinn released a sigh and stayed silent for a second, "okay I'm sorry…I just…I'm worried San."

"Don't be worried about me," Santana said pointedly and stilled when she heard the tell-tale sound of Rachel in the bathroom. "Shit Quinn I've got to go bye," Santana said not even bothering to wait for a reply as she snapped her phone closed and ran to her bathroom.

"What the hell?" She cried out at the sign of Rachel desperately digging through her medicine cabinet.

"I need something San!" Rachel yelled out furiously as she tossed things over her shoulder. "Fuck!" She cried sinking to the floor and throwing open the door under the sink.

"Stop," Santana shrieked falling down next to the girl and slamming the door closed.

"Please," Rachel begged, clawing at the door.

"No Rachel stop," Santana said moving her body in between the woman and her sink.

"Oh god," Rachel sobbed as she started taking labored breaths and rocking back and forth in place, scratching her shoulders desperately to try and relieve the burning itch she felt all over.

"Rachel you have to calm down," Santana ordered as she pulled the girl next to her.

"I can't…do…this," Rachel cried, her breaths now coming out in desperate gasps.

"Rachel come on and breath for me," Santana begged sticking her mouth against the girl's ear.

"I…c-can't," Rachel gasped out as she desperately tried to suck in oxygen.

"Rachel you're hyperventilating," Santana said as she grabbed one of the woman's tiny hands and pressed it against her own chest. "Follow my breath baby," She ordered as her body began to rock and back and forth with the tiny brunette.

Rachel's body released a shudder and for the next five minutes the pair sat on the floor rocking back and forth until Rachel's desperate ragged gasps started to abate and she was breathing softly down the Latina's neck. "This hurts so much San, I'm not strong enough," she sighed, letting her body fall into the taller woman's.

"You are so strong Love," Santana murmured as she pulled herself and Rachel off the ground, putting her arms under the girl's thighs until they wrapped around her midsection. "Hold onto me," she whispered, fighting back a gag at how light the brunette felt in her arms.

Rachel nodded against the Latina's neck and weakly tightened her arms around the woman's neck, shaking gently as Santana carried her into the bedroom and went to lay her down on the bed. As Santana pulled her arms away Rachel tightened her own, forcing the woman to lay down in the bed with her.

"I'm so tired," she whispered.

"Try to go back to sleep," Santana murmured as she placed a kiss to the top of the woman's sweat drenched head.

"Can't," Rachel groaned out, nestling tightly into the Latina's chest.

"Alright then talk until you can," Santana whispered, pulling the girl tightly against her until she could feel the woman's heartbeat against her skin.

Rachel simply nodded weakly into the tanned neck and started speaking about things she never had before.

* * *

><p><em>Despite all of the torture that Rachel lived through during the twelve years of school the girl had always remained positive. Where most people would have folded under the pressure, Rachel had thrived, continuing to take the daily abuse with a smile on her face at the end of the day.<em>

_ And she managed to do this because she truly did have the best two fathers that had ever lived. Hiram and Leroy Berry had loved their daughter beyond reason. Where others saw flaws they say strengths. Where others saw an annoying brat they saw a girl who was fiercely determined to get what she deserved out of life. _

_They truly knew their daughter in a way that anyone really could have if they had just given the girl half-a-chance. Was Rachel over-dramatic and selfish at times? Yes. Did she deserve to be tormented for it? Absolutely not. They just got her. They knew that her storm outs were her way of protecting herself and if you simply followed her she would instantly calm down in your arms. They knew that her tantrums could easily be diffused by a simple hug. And they knew that all you had to do to get her to act selflessly was show that you respected her talents._

_They were in Rachel's eyes the perfect parents really. Both of them had worked so hard to make sure that Rachel was comfortable and successful in life. Both Hiram and Leroy had been disowned by their parents straight out of High School but both men had managed to get jobs despite not going to college and had ensured that Rachel's needs and wants were met. Times were hard all over and they both had to work long hours, Hiram as a medical assistant and Leroy as a construction worker, but Rachel had never known what it was to want. _

_Even though they did work long hours the men assured that one of them was always available to be there for Rachel, even though this meant that they didn't get to spend as much time with each other. All of the money they made they sat aside to be sure that at least for the first two years of college Rachel would not have to work and would be able to concentrate on her studies._

_When Rachel had shown an interest in singing the men had made multiple sacrifices to ensure that she would be able to follow her dream. Leroy had begun working even longer hours and Hiram had sold his car and started taking the bus so that they could afford the multiple lessons Rachel wanted. It wasn't them spoiling their daughter; it was them loving her so much they would do anything for her._

_Rachel's first year at college had been a whirlwind of experiences. The competition for the bit roles offered to Freshmen was fierce and Rachel quickly developed a reputation for being ruthless, which didn't offer her the chance to make very many real friendships. So again Rachel found herself friendless in the world, and again she met it with a positive determination. _

_Every single night Rachel and her fathers either talked on the phone or skyped, filling each other in on every single moment of their days. They were Rachel's support system as she tried to find her way in the world and without them Rachel knew she wouldn't be nearly as strong. They were what kept her motivated. _

_She supposes that it would be ironic if it wasn't so fucking sad. She was home for summer break, enjoying the time with her fathers away from the bump and grind of New York when she got a call. A teacher of hers that had taken a particular interest in Rachel called to tell the girl that there was a spot in an Off-Broadway play that belonged to Rachel if she would return to the city immediately. It was a small role but it was the first stepping stone to Rachel's dream._

_She had been in the car heading back from dinner with her fathers when she told them about it. They had been slightly upset. They had missed their daughter just as much and didn't want her to go back to the city after only getting to spend a couple of weeks with her. Quickly Rachel had become irate over the matter, arguing passionately with them._

_It is ironic that at the moment Rachel was arguing that she wanted to leave to go back to the city, effectively shortening their time together by a month. It was ironic because when Rachel crawled out of the wreckage of the car and seen her father's lifeless bodies, all she could think was how much she wanted to stay with them forever._

* * *

><p>"Fuck," Santana whispered under her breath as she looked down at the thermometer clenched in her hand. She glared down at the reading of one-hundred and one point six, willing it to magically lower down to at least a hundred.<p>

Throwing it to the side she looked down mournfully at Rachel who was lying in the middle of her bed, her entire body drenched in sweat and shaking violently. They were now forty hours into the withdrawal and Rachel had to the slight relief of Santana seemed to reach a plateau. She wasn't getting any worse but she wasn't getting any better either.

Taking in the girl's disheveled state Santana frowned at the sweat drenched clothing clinging to the woman's tiny emaciated body for a moment before walking over to her drawers and pulling out a pair of fresh sweatpants and an old McKinley High athletic hoody.

"Rachel I need you to sit up for me," Santana said gently as she sat down on the bed.

Rachel's eyes parted open slowly and whimpering slightly she tried to lift herself up but fell back instantly, letting out a weak hiss of pain as her sensitive body gave out. Quickly brushing away a tear that had managed to escape Santana leant over and gently pulled the woman up until she was leaning against her own body.

"I've got to change you out of this clothing Baby Girl," Santana whispered into the girl's ear as she pulled at the material of her shirt.

"Please don't," Rachel whimpered pitifully, trying weakly to pull away from the Latina's hands.

"I'm sorry Baby I have to," Santana sighed, pulling the girl's shirt over her head. She sucked in a pained breath as she took in the sight of topless woman. When she had inspected Rachel the other night she had left her breast covered to give her some privacy, now she realized that there were even more scars on the girl's soft flesh than she had seen. Even with all the scars and bruises Santana still thought that Rachel was breathtakingly beautiful.

Up close she could clearly see that Rachel's breast enhancement surgery had obviously not been done by a professional by the look of the angry scar underneath her left breast. Both nipples had been pierced as well and from the look of it they had been pierced recently. She didn't have to be a doctor to know that the angry red color surrounding one of the bars meant it was slightly infected.

"I'm going to take these out Sweetheart, I'll try to be gentle," Santana whispered as she began to gently unscrew the ball on the uninfected nipple. Rachel let out a small whimper but remained silent as the Latina pulled out the bar and dropped it in the trashcan next to her bed. As her nimble fingers went to work on the infected one Rachel let out a weak cry and tried to back away from the Latina. Putting an arm gently around the woman Santana pulled her back to her body and quickly popped out the bar, eliciting a sharp cry of pain and tears from the woman.

"I'm so sorry," Santana whispered as she pushed Rachel gently down on the bed and ran into her bathroom. Examining the mess on the floor she let out a sigh of relief when she located a tube of Neosporin and hurried back into her bedroom. Climbing back onto the bed Santana pushed a little of the cream onto her thumb and rolled her index finger against it to warm it up.

Trying hard to keep her mind off of what she was doing Santana gingerly rubbed the woman's stiff nipple between her fingers, her face flushing when Rachel let out a frail moan. Shaking her head clear Santana pulled her fingers away and wiped the remaining liquid on her pants before gently pulling the tiny brunette up again.

Quickly she pulled the hoody over the woman and helped her get her arms through the sleeves before hopping off the bed and gently pulling Rachel's legs towards herself. She carefully pulled off the girl's shorts and almost groaned at the sight before her. Her fingers ghosted over the cut marks on the inside of the girl's thigh as pulled down the girl's panties and muffled a gasp. Right above the woman's sex was another series of cuts as well as two more cigar shaped burn scars.

Shaking her head she grabbed the pair of warm sweatpants and pulled them up, gently sliding an arm under the girl and lifting her up so she could pull the sweats over her tiny hips.

Quickly she rotated the brunette again and crawled back into the bed with her, wrapping her up in her arms gently. "Try to get some sleep Rachel," Santana murmured throwing a tanned leg over the girl's in an attempt to warm her up.

"Can't," Rachel whimpered, tucking her tiny body into the Latina's.

"Talk to me until you can then," Santana sighed, repeating their earlier conversation.

"Kay," Rachel whispered, once again plunging them into darkness.

* * *

><p><em>Rachel can still remember every single second of her Father's joint funeral. It was a cloudy day in Lima and the smell of rain was heavy in the air. She had so many questions running through her head the entire time, as people she barely knew stood up and said meaningless words about men they had barely knew.<em>

_No one knew what exactly had caused the accident. They knew it had been a drunk driver, but there was no telling whose car hit whose in the end. Maybe the drunk man whose life had also been ended had fallen asleep at the wheel. Maybe Hiram had been momentarily distracted by the argument and let the wheel drift. An investigation had been done but there wasn't much to go on. Seconds after Rachel had dragged herself out of the wreckage the cars had exploded, burning so hot that any real evidence they could have gotten was destroyed. All they had to go on were two sets of skids marks meeting dead center in the middle of the road._

_Rachel had stared at the caskets blankly. Those weren't her Dads in there. It couldn't possibly be. They couldn't possibly be gone, not when Rachel still needed them so much. Her Fathers would never leave her when she needed them._

_She had stood between Puck and Finn and let them hold onto her, but she didn't even feel them. She couldn't feel them. All she could feel was the scorching fire from the accident. Later the entire Glee Club came up and whispered apologies and condolences as they gave her gentle hugs. But Rachel couldn't hear them. All she could hear was the sounds of metal groaning and snapping from the intensity of the fire. _

_Every second of the funeral all Rachel could feel, hear, taste, see, and smell were her memories from that night. After it was all over. After the two best men who had ever lived were lowered into the ground and buried. After the very last person had left. After everything was over, Puck had taken her home and gave her a gentle hug as he let her out on her door step._

_She'll never know that maybe if someone…anyone had come to her then and offered their support, if maybe someone had cared enough; she might have been able to heal properly. She might have been able to move on._

_The day after the funeral a lawyer came knocking on her door to go over her parents finances with her. Hiram had a meager life insurance policy that had paid for half of the funeral, but Leroy had never gotten one himself. It was like another person was speaking when Rachel had calmly told the lawyer to put the house on the market and use that money to pay off the other half._

_She had ghosted around the house for a few more days, carefully running her fingers over the belongings of her shattered life. Every item…every single one of them elicited a memory to spring forth in the girl's mind; sending her crashing to the ground with grief more than a few times._

_After she had gathered a few items she wanted to keep; family albums, mementos, personal belongings and the like, Rachel had locked up the house one final time, handed the keys over to the lawyer, and hopped on the first plane back to New York._

_Returning to the city she had a dim hope that she would be able to heal properly, away from everything that reminded her of what she had lost. The well wishes and phone calls from friends had levied off until it was only Puck calling her ever few weeks to check up on her._

_Rachel felt lifeless. She couldn't concentrate on her studies. Every time she thought of her dream she blanched. Yes Rachel had always dreamed of making it to Broadway, but in ever single on of those dreams her Daddies had been sitting in the front row to watch her. Suddenly it didn't seem so important anymore. What was the point of living out her dream if it would never be complete again? Why reach the top only to do it alone._

_Again, maybe if someone had been there for her then than maybe with a little work they could have pulled her out of the deep depression she found herself sliding into. Four months into her second year at Julliard Rachel had quit rather than be kicked out, her reasoning being that some day she might return. Rachel had lost her dorm room but still had a good couple thousand dollars in her bank account, so she settled for a tiny cramped apartment that smelt of urine and was crawling with roaches. For many days she didn't leave the dank room, opting to lie in the middle of the moldy mattress that came with the room and wish for better times._

_After a couple of months of only near-existence Rachel's money had run dry and by this point she had spiraled so far into her own heartache that she couldn't be bothered to care. She had stored what few belongings she still had with her at a storage lot and gone out into the city to disappear; finding a bench in Central Park and waiting for the city to eat her alive._

* * *

><p>"Eat it slowly," Santana said as she watched Rachel take hungry gulps of the bland soup. They were now coming on forty-eight hours into the withdrawals and both girls were beyond exhausted, but Santana felt like she could run for miles when Rachel had whimpered into her chest that she was hungry.<p>

Santana had flown into her kitchen and thrown open every single cupboard door until she had located a can of vegetable broth. Quickly she had poured it into a pot to warm and cut up a few carrots and celery she had in her fridge; dumping them into the pot she had shut the lid and waited rather impatiently for a quarter of an hour until the carrots had become soft enough to turn to much with the slightest pressure.

They were now sitting against Santana's headboard, relaxing a bit for the better part of two days. Carefully Santana raised a spoonful of the soup to Rachel's mouth and watched with barely contained joy as the brunette greedily consumed it.

Halfway down the bowl Rachel eye's had closed and she had shaken her head when Santana offered her more. Santana had sat the soup aside and waited with bated breath to see if Rachel would go running to the bathroom.

After a tense minute the woman and shaken her head a bit and relaxed against the Latina. "I'm okay," she murmured, pulling the blankets around her shivering body. "Hey San," she whispered sleepily.

"Yah Babe?" Santana replied, turning her head and kissing the top of Rachel's.

"What happened to everyone else from Glee? Where are they all now?"

"Why do you want to know?" Santana asked carefully.

"I want to know if I'm the biggest fuckup," Rachel chuckled weakly, nudging the Latina to talk.

"Alright well as you know I'm a lawyer and Quinn is here in the city studying medicine. Puck and Lauren are living in Northern California in some kind of swinger nudist colony-"

"Really?" Rachel asked snorting lightly.

"Could make this shit up if I tried," Santana laughed. "Mike and Tina got married four years ago and they're expecting the first little Asian Fusion Baby soon. Artie is like working for NASA or some crazy smart shit like that. Mercedes and Kurt are living in Paris actually, they went there for some fashion show and fell in love with city or something gay like that-"

"Gays not an insult," Rachel chastised weakly slapping the Latina's thigh.

"No I mean literally gay," Santana laughed. "Blaine went with them and him and Kurt are getting married soonish, I think they're planning on knocking up Mercedes and raising little gay babies. Anyways Sam is living in Cleveland now, he works for the housing community putting low income families in houses until they get back on their feet. And Finnoscence is living in Chicago now, he's actually a cop," Santana laughed.

"What about Brittany I thought you two would end up together after high school for sure," Rachel asked carefully.

Santana closed her eyes for a second at the mention of her ex and sighed, "we just didn't work out. But we're still good friends, she's on tour with Lady Gaga right now as one of her backup dancers."

"I always loved watching her dance," Rachel said moving a shaky arm around the Latina's midsection in a show of understanding.

"Me too," Santana said shaking the thoughts of her first love away.

The women sat in silence for about five minutes, just peacefully enjoying the precious moments when Rachel's body had momentarily relaxed it's assault on her. After that Santana felt Rachel begin to tremble beside her and she pulled her down into a laying position and wrapped herself around the woman's tiny body again. Without being asked to, Rachel continued to tell her story, trying desperately to concentrate on anything but the fire that was returning beneath her flesh.

* * *

><p><em>Mickey Inzerello was the son of a second generation Italian immigrant mother who had married a first generation German immigrant in hopes that any children she might have would be able to grow up away from the crime associated with the Mafia, that dominated the lives of the low income families living in the gritty New York City boroughs. Unfortunately for Mickey's mother his father died when the boy was only three years old, meaning that the woman had to spend long hours at work to keep them afloat. <em>

_At the age of eleven his mother had literally worked herself to death, leaving Mickey to live in the Hell's Kitchen neighborhood in Manhattan with a family friend. The boy was instantly wide eyed at the mobsters who roamed the streets in their fancy cars and set out to make himself one._

_By the age of twenty two her had changed his last name back to his mother's Italian maiden name. Mickey was officially an Associate of Cosa Nostra, his mixed heritage making it impossible to be a Made Man. Despite that holding him back Mickey flourished as an Associate for the Gambino Crime family, quickly becoming known for his intense business prowess._

_He seemed to be on his way to becoming one of the most powerful associates in the mafia until he made the mistake of sleeping with the girlfriend of an Underboss. The only thing that kept him from sinking down into the Hudson River with cinder blocks for shoes was the fact that he had made the family so much money._

_But his reputation was shot after that and he was pushed down to the very bottom of the Associate scrap heap. Never one to let a setback stop him from achieving his childhood dream Mickey became even more determined to live the life he wanted. Quickly he came up with a plan to help him achieve that._

_He started taking minor hit jobs for pay until he had enough money to buy a rundown strip joint in Eastern Queens. He was a shrewd businessman and a master at manipulating people and within a year of opening The Pussy Box he purchased a diner not far away from the club. With the income he made from both businesses he purchased five other properties, bringing his plan all together._

_The scheme was simplistic and actually rather beautiful if looked at objectively. Mickey would search out and find young people in the City with no support system and befriend them, playing the concerned father role, preying on their weaknesses, and giving them a job at the diner and a place to stay for free at one of his five properties; boys in one and girls in the other._

_He kept their wages meager and their hours long at the beginning and then began to slowly cut their hours. The workers could hardly complain because they were getting free room and board out of the situation. After they had become comfortable with their meager earnings he would unfold the next act of his own personal play. He would go to the worker and explain that he had found another poor desperate soul who was need of a place to stay and that they would have to move out. _

_He assured them that he knew of a place where they could stay and promised to pull a few strings and get them a cheap rent. Trusting the sleazy man fully at this point the worker would head on to the other property that was no where near as nice as the free accommodations they were used to. _

_At this point after less than a month of living mouth to mouth the workers would come to Mickey begging for more hours at the Diner. Mickey would comfort them and explain that their simply weren't enough to go around but he also owned another business that they would definitely get more hours at. This was where things would get a little tense usually as he explained that he would be willing to hire them on at the Strip Club, girls working as waitresses or bartenders and the boys working as bouncers or cooks in the kitchen. If they turned down the offer Mickey quietly kicked them out on the street and moved on to the next person he was grooming._

_But most took the offer, telling themselves that it was just a job, it's not like they were doing anything themselves. This is where Mickey began to make the shift from caring father to stern boss, and it was also where he began working on the second act._

_The work was hard and fast and he harangued them to push just as hard and fast to keep up, seeing as he had been so good to him. At this point he would have one of his underlings go to work on their self-confidence and their self-assurance. For the girl's it was the head of his waitressing staff, a woman named Ivy who received a cut of the proceeds for every girl she pushed into the second act. And for the boys it was a man named Tony who headed up his Kitchen staff with the same financial benefits._

_Their jobs were to push and push the workers until they were exhausted day in and day out. Any time they started to lag behind they whispered in there ears about all that Mickey had done for them and if they didn't pick it up they would end up homeless on the streets because Mickey couldn't carry them forever._

_This was the point where they introduced the workers to the drugs that flowed through the area quickly. At first there was hesitation but most of them caved after hearing promises that with just a few lines of coke they would be able to work all night and pay Mickey back for his kindness. Those who didn't were kicked out onto the streets._

_After a few months the workers fell hopelessly into their addictions that got them by and their money started to dry up as they snorted away their earnings. At this point Mickey would again sweep the rug out from yet again by getting the person who acted as their landlord underneath him to say that their rent had to be raised. The old man who simply went by Joe was promised that the money from the raised rent would go into his pocket._

_Again the workers would go to Mickey crying desperately for more hours, not only so they could afford their rent but more so they could afford the drugs that were now constantly coursing through their veins._

_This is where Mickey fell into the second act, explaining that there simply weren't enough hours to go around. The workers begged and pleaded, promising they would work even harder for just a few more hours…that they needed it. Mickey waited until he heard those four desperate words before the final trap for the boys and the second to last for the girls._

_Each one was offered a new job. The boys were offered the job to run the streets and push the drugs that Mickey's weak Mafia connections allowed him. The girl's were offered a job stripping in the club. Each job offered nearly triple what they were making at this point._

_This was the point where he lost half of them usually, as they clung to stretched morals and weakened pride, refusing the jobs on the principle of the matter. That half was unceremoniously kicked to the streets to fade away into darkness that was New York City._

_But for that half that left another half stayed, throwing away their morals and childhood beliefs in favor of the money that would allow them a more comfortable life._

_And this is where Mickey the caring father died and became Mickey, the man who kept you alive if you did what you were told. The hours were long but the pay was great and every single one of them that passed into that act thrived so to speak. Their addictions grew until they could barely pass a minute without the powder running through their veins._

_The only sacrifice they made was the little bit of their souls they lost every time they got up on that pole or sold drugs to a kid barely in their teen years. And it started to take a toll on them. Demons reared in their ugly head that were constantly alert from the amount of blow they were doing. Most if not all of them turned onto heroin at this point to numb the pain and this is where the woman slipped into the final act of the play._

_Again the woman were moved this time to a slum apartment building next to the club that's rent was through the roof. By now they were smart to Mickey's game and didn't come begging for more hours, they just came begging. _

_Mickey didn't even bat an eyelash as he explained to them that if they wanted to keep their 'junky asses' fucked up all the time then they had better be ready to open their legs up for some serious money. Most if not all of them hung their heads in shame as they allowed themselves to be turned out onto the streets._

_They were addicts who had come from broken homes. They were running away from demons and devils. They were the depressed mass that sold their souls to numb the pains and sins of their past, too hopeless to care and too desperate to try and get out._

_Mickey Inzerello was a shrewd soulless businessman who manipulated people with out a shred of shame. Every inch of the scheme brought in money for him. The cheap labor that kept his diner running, the wages he gave them at the diner that went straight back to him in the form of rent, the drugs they bought from him to keep up with his demands, the money the boys made pushing and the money the girls made stripping, and eventually the money that was brought in when he turned the girls out._

_In less than a year he went from savior to boss to pimp for a little under half of the people he managed to ensnare in his web. Mickey Inzerello had realized his dream. _

_It was a frigid December day when Mickey walked through Central Park and stumbled upon Rachel Berry. His eyes lit up as he took in the sight of the tiny girl sitting on a park bench crying her eyes out and looking every bit the part of the virginal damsel that he suspected she was. _

_By this point Mickey had become a pro at spotting out potential victims and he wasn't one to turn up an opportunity. Sliding onto the park bench he was silent for a few seconds as she took in Rachel's appearance. _

_Her eyes were red and puffy from crying so much, but just glancing into them he could see a deep well of insecurity and desperation. She clearly had not been eating well for a long time and her entire body looked weak with fatigue. She looked absolutely perfect to Mickey's sharp eyes._

"_You okay Sweetheart," he asked breaking the silence and causing the girl to jump slightly._

"_I'm fine," she stuttered out, sliding away from the man that smelled of cheap cologne and cigar smoke._

"_You don't look fine," Mickey said keeping his voice calm and caring._

"_I'm just having a bad…life," Rachel said sniffling as she brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them._

"_I hear you there kid," Mickey said scooting slightly closer to the girl and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I hate seeing you out here all alone crying on a bench, is there anything I can do for you?"_

_Rachel looked at the man nervously for a second, taking in his appearance. Rachel Berry from even a year ago wouldn't have given this man the time of day. But that Rachel Berry was gone now, and all that was left was a little girl who was desperate for her fathers. And Mickey had a certain way of making you feel like he could take that place when you were in the gutter._

"_Why would you want to help me," she asked as she nervously thumbed her frayed jeans._

"_Honestly because you remind me of my niece, she's about your age I figure and I would hope if she was out here then someone would help her. So you just tell me what's wrong and let Uncle Mickey see what he can do. What do you say?"_

_ "I need help," Rachel shook out, glancing at the first person to show her any form of sincere care since her Fathers had died. _

_ "Go on Sweetheart," he pushed smiling at her reassuringly._

_ "I…I don't have any money," she whimpered, clenching her fists tightly._

_ "Well is that all Love? We can fix that, no problem," he said patting her on the shoulder._

_ "H-how?" she stammered out, hugging herself closer as a few hot tears escaped her eyes._

_ "You just leave that to me Sweetheart," he said wiping away a tear rolling down the girl's cheek. "Uncle Mickey is going to get you sorted out until you're back on your feet. What's your name?"_

_ "Rachel. Rachel Berry," she murmured looking at the man hopefully._

_ "Well Ms. Rachel Berry lets get you out of here, I just so happen to run a place for girls in just your situation," he said standing up and pulling her tiny pack over one shoulder._

_ Rachel hesitated for a second. Her desperate brain was telling her that this man was obviously an angel sent to help her out. She searched her heart for any objection and shuddered when she realized that it hadn't said anything since the night of the crash. So with hunched shoulders and a silent heart Rachel Berry got up off of that park bench and let Mickey Inzerello lead her to the stage of his play._

* * *

><p>They were now fifty-five hours into the withdrawal and the fire burning under Rachel's skin was unbearable. The reprise earlier had been short lived and only served to give Rachel enough strength to make a dash for the door when Santana had been snoozing lightly next to her.<p>

At the feeling of the bed shifting Santana had cracked open an eye just in time to see Rachel jerking on the handle desperately. "What the fuck!" Santana had said jumping out of the bed and forcing herself in between the petite woman and the door.

"No damnit!" Santana yelled as she stood between her bedroom door and a frantic Rachel.

"Let me fucking go!" Rachel screamed out, her body shaking violently as she glared at the Latina.

"I'm not letting you go Rachel!" Santana yelled back, crossing her arms and widening her stance.

"I want to fucking go! I can't do this! I don't want this!" Rachel cried out, clawing at her face in desperation.

Santana's eyes became large and she flew towards the brunette, quickly dragging the girl's hands away from her face and pushing her back towards the bed. Rachel flailed in her arms trying desperately to inflict any sort of pain on the Latina. Santana took the hits as she pushed the woman down onto the bed and back quickly away from her kicking legs.

"You can't keep me here," Rachel wailed as her body betrayed her and her strength gave out.

"Rachel you can't give up sweetheart," Santana said falling down onto the bed next to her. "You're so close."

"Why do you even care Santana? Why couldn't just let me go?" Rachel asked weakly as she curled up into the Latina, all the fight in her body gone.

"Would you have let me go? If the situation was reversed would you just give up on me?" Santana asked kissing the woman's sweaty forehead.

"That's different," Rachel murmured into the Latina's tanned collar bone.

"Not a bit different," Santana sighed sleepily as she tightened her arms around Rachel's frail body. "I believe in you Rachel. You're going to get through this and you're going to move on."

"Just give up on me," Rachel murmured as she slipped off into sleep.

"No chance Berry," Santana said kissing the girl softly on the cheek as close as she dared to her lips before falling asleep.

An hour later the feeling of Rachel jumping out of her arms startled Santana awake and for a second she was afraid that she was going to have to drag her back to bed again. She raised her head just in time to see Rachel disappear into her bathroom and took a deep breath of strained relief.

Jumping off of the bed she went into the bathroom just in time to pull back Rachel's hair as the woman began to throw up the contents of her turbulent stomach. Reaching over with one hand she grabbed a washcloth and wetted it in the tap before she brought it to the back of the girl's sweat drenched neck.

Rachel continued to vomit until once again she was dry-heaving for a few minutes. Finally the nauseas feeling passed and she collapsed into Santana's arms. Rachel sat collecting her breath for a few minutes after until she lazily opened her eyes and looked up at the Latina.

"You come here often?" Rachel asked, smiling weakly up into Santana's dark loving eyes.

Santana's smile nearly split her face in to and she released a real laugh for the first time in days. "Really Berry? You puke your guts out in my toilet and then shoot me a pick up line?"

"I'm a smooth operator like that," Rachel chuckled.

"Real smooth," Santana said rolling her eyes as she leant against her bathroom wall.

"Did I do that to you?" Rachel asked suddenly, raising a hand and cupping the Latina's cheek.

Furrowing her brows Santana raised herself up off the floor a bit until she could see her reflection and frowned, she knew that at least one of Rachel's frantic hits had connected with her face but she was surprised to the see the bruise forming on her left cheek. "Damn killer you got a mean right hook," Santana chuckled as she settled back onto the floor.

"Don't joke about that," Rachel and murmured, hot tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.

"Hey it's okay, you were in the moment," Santana said pulling the girl against her tightly and running a hand through her messy hair.

"You should just let me go Santana," Rachel sighed, burrowing into the embrace.

"Not happening Rachel. It's fine."

"I'm no good…don't you see that?"

"No I don't," Santana said honestly, her voice unwavering with confidence.

"Then you're blind. I'm not a good person Santana…I've done horrible things," Rachel cried out softly, her tears beginning to soak through the Latina's shirt.

"You made mistakes Love," Santana whispered, trying as hard as she could to pour as much emotion as she could into those four words.

"You don't understand," Rachel cried, her breathing starting to become ragged.

"Rachel breath baby. Follow me," Santana said grabbing the girl's hand and holding it against her sternum. When Rachel had calmed down Santana interlocked their fingers and puller her impossibly tight against her body. "Tell me the rest Rach."

* * *

><p><em>It took less than eight months for Mickey to turn Rachel out. A personal best for the sleazy man. It really didn't count though in Rachel's eyes. Mickey was in the business of breaking people but she had already been broken when he found her.<em>

_ She had long ago given up on any sort of life but no matter how bad she wanted to she didn't have it in her to just kill herself outright. She was a coward in that way._

_ She rolled with the punches, simply accepting it as Mickey rotated her through the various positions until she was stripping in the club. She had only protested once and that was when he told her she had to get a nose job. After a day of arguing on her half she had convinced Mickey that she would do anything else but just not that, her mind floating to happier times and flash mob inside of the Lima Mall serenading her with a Barbara Streisand techno beat. In the end she had a rather hastily done boob job that had shot her up from a B to a D over night. Two nights later she was back on the stage dancing._

_ Rachel lost her virginity just two days shy of her 21rst birthday. A man came up to Mickey one night and said that he absolutely had to have her. It was out of Mickey's usual order to the plan but he pitched the idea to Rachel less than an hour later, only to practically salivate when she confirmed his suspicion that she was indeed a virgin._

_ Within hours and not even bothering to ask Rachel he had arranged for a group of twenty men to meet at the club after hours to bid on Rachel like a piece of meat. A tiny sliver of indignation had resurfaced as Mickey came to get Rachel for it and she had refused, backing herself into a wall and looking fearfully at the man._

_ Mickey flew into a rage at being denied what he knew was going to be extremely profitable for him. Those men out there weren't simply common perverts. They were businessmen, politicians, powerful men who had a lot of money to spend and would spend it all, just for the chance to pop the cherry of a girl that was so strewn out on drugs and so emaciated that she looked closer to 16 instead of 21. _

_ Rachel had given a desperate cry for help when Mickey had flung himself at her, only infuriated the greedy man even more and within a few minutes Ivy and Tony had burst into the dressing room to help him wrangle the frenzied girl._

_ "Don't bruise her!" Mickey shouted as Tony picked her up off the ground._

_ "Stop struggling Cherry," Ivy ordered as she pulled the girl's hands behind her back and started to wrap them tightly with a scarf left behind by one of the girls._

_ "Please let me go," Rachel cried out desperately, her blown out mind frantic at the thought of what was about to happen._

_ "Carry her out to the stage," Mickey ordered, completely ignoring the girl's request. _

_ Tony easily lifted the tiny brunette over his shoulder and carried her down the narrow hall. Just outside of the stage door Mickey turned around and motioned for Tony to spin around until he was facing Rachel. _

_ "Listen you little bitch," he said pinching her chin between his fingers. "I fucking own you. Do you know who the fuck I am? Now calm your ass down and make me some fucking money unless you want me to throw you to the junkies in the ghetto. You got me?" _

_ All the fight left Rachel's tiny body and she had simply gone limp in Tony's arms, letting herself be dragged out onto the stage. She didn't pay any attention to the auction. She just stood and tried to imagine that she was back in Lima with her Daddies._

_ She was sold to a grey-headed man who she later identified as a New York State Senator. She tried to blank out during the sex but when his bulbous head entered her tight vagina she had screamed out. She had nearly puked when he told her to call him Grampy. Those are the two things that Rachel would always remember from the night she lost her virginity. Pain and an unbelievable need to puke._

_ After that night Rachel gave up most of what little hope she had and completely became a slave to the life she had been thrust into. She had nothing left to lose._

_ Mickey cherished Rachel because of all the girl's he had used over the years, Rachel had been without a doubt the easiest to manipulate. The very night after her virginity had been taken she was thrust out after her shift and been told that she had to bring back at least five hundred dollars a night._

_ Sometimes she found her own Johns but most of the time they were arranged through Mickey. It went on for two or three months until the night when one of the Johns that Mickey had arranged had tried to get rough with her. Acting on pure instinct Rachel had clawed at his face desperately. The man was outraged. He had dragged her back to the club and thrown her face down in front of Mickey, demanding his money back._

_ Glaring dangerously down at the girl Mickey had counted out five twenty dollar bills and handed them over to the furious man. The second he was out the door Rachel saw stars when one of Mickey's boots caught her under the chest and sent her tumbling across the sticky bar floor._

_ "What the fuck Cherry!" He screamed grabbing a hold of her hair and dragging her limp body back to his office._

_ "I'm sorry," Rachel begged as he began to kick her over and over again in the stomach. _

_ "Sorry isn't going to bring my money back Bitch!" He yelled down at her. "You're going to fucking learn your place right here and right now," he raged as he began to unbuckle his belt._

_ "No please," Rachel pleaded backing into a corner of the office._

_ "Fuck your please bitch," Mickey roared as he dropped his trousers and barreled towards her until his hard member was bobbing in front of her tear stained face. "You're going to learn right now that I don't give a fuck if one of my customers wants to fuck your corpse, as long as it is bringing me money you're going to do it! Now fucking suck!" _

_ "Oh god please no!" Rachel cried turning her head away._

_ "Fucking suck I said!" Mickey roared grabbing a handful of her hair and turning her face towards his reddened hard-on. Reaching down he forced her to open her mouth and slammed his 7 inch member deep down her throat._

_ Rachel struggled in his grasp as she pushed in and out, groaning at the sound of the tiny girl choking on his dick. "Of fuck Cherry, suck that cock you little slut," he groaned._

_ Rachel gagged and sputtered around the dick, trying to breath through her nose and almost throwing up at the intense smell of the man. She made the mistake of trying to back away when he relaxed his hand and accidentally dragged her teethe hard against the man's member._

_ "Fucking bitch!" Mickey said flying away from the girl and aiming a kick in between her legs._

_ Rachel let out a wail of pain when his foot connected and fell to the floor in the fetal position, letting out deep gasps of breath as the blinding pain rushed through her body._

_ "You're going to fucking regret that," Mickey yelled, pulling her off of the floor and slamming her down on his desk._

_ Her shorts and underwear were ripped from her body and Rachel's eyes went big at the sight of the large man stroking his red dick in between her legs. "Call me Uncle Mickey," he yelled laughing as he spat between her legs and slammed his hard member into her, causing the girl to let out an ear piercing scream._

_ For the next thirty minutes he pounded into her until Rachel was a lifeless lump on his desk. She barely registered her body being rolled over and only had the strength to cry out faintly when he shoved his full length into her anus. _

_ Minutes passed by until Rachel felt him pull out and shove back into her vagina, a second later and she felt him cumming deep inside of her. She lay their completely limp as he rolled her body over and smiled sadistically down at her. "Now do you get it bitch?" He asked as he lit up a large cigar._

_ Rachel's eyes closed and she started to pass out when the searing hot feeling of his cigar was pressed right above her vagina twice. "I said do you get it bitch?" He laughed out as she tried to weakly roll away from him. _

_ Quickly the cigar was pressed down on to her stomach multiple times, ripping a desperate cry from her throat. "Last chance bitch," he said as he hovered the cigar centimeters away from her clit until she could feel the heat. "Do you get it?"_

_ "Yes I get it," she gasped out._

_ "Good," he said stubbing the cigar out in an ashtray. "Now fucking get your slutty ass off of my desk and go make me some fucking money," he said putting her shorts back onto her and throwing her out of his office._

_ Rachel lay out on the floor in a crumpled ball for a few minutes until she heard shuffling behind the office door. Summoning all the strength she had in her body she pulled herself up the wall and made her way out to the curb, taking the first John who stopped._

_ Another lesson learned the hard way. After that night Rachel learned never to fight back._

_ She swears on the graves of her Fathers that she didn't know she was pregnant. Her period had long since stopped coming regularly after five years of daily drug abuse. She didn't know. She swears that if she had known she would have done something. Anything to get out of the life and protect the unborn child she was carrying. Rachel might not have given a single fuck about her own life at this point, but she still respected human life. _

_She hadn't known until after one particularly rough night one of the other girl's in her slum screamed bloody murder when she found the tiny woman bleeding out on the couch. Rachel had been rushed to a Mob Associate who treated all of the girl's bruised and battered bodies._

_After a quick examination she had been devastated to discover that she had miscarried a two month old pregnancy. _

_It was the worst moment of Rachel's life besides the day of the crash. All others paled in comparison to that moment. All of the abuse she had taken. The multiple times a rough John had carried it over to rape. The time when a man who looked and smelled almost exactly like her Daddy had paid for her services and requested to be called Daddy. _

_Staring down at her bruised and scarred stomach all Rachel could think about was the life that had started in her. She tortured herself, agonizing over whether it had been a boy or a girl. She thought about what it might have looked like. She blamed herself so much that the only relief she could find was pumping her veins with heroin and carving up the inside of one of her thighs with an old razor used for cutting coke._

_Later after a few more girls turned up pregnant it was surmised that one of the regular Johns in the area was pinching holes in the end of all of his condemns. Rachel wanted to hate that man so much. She wanted to hate the John who had beaten her until she miscarried. _

_But the only person Rachel could hate was herself._

_Any flicker of hope she might have been holding onto was extinguished that night, to remain blackened until Santana Lopez saw her one night in a strip club and rekindled a tiny weak fire in the girl's deadened heart. _

_Rachel Berry wanted to live._

* * *

><p>Santana stared down lovingly at the tiny brunette curled up in the middle of her bed. It was a full three days after Rachel's withdrawal had started and finally the raging storm inside her had broken, leaving an emotionally and physically exhausted but strikingly clear-headed woman in it's wake.<p>

Rachel had slipped off to sleep a few hours ago and despite the fact that she was dead on her feet Santana had stayed awake watching her, praying and hoping that this wasn't just another reprieve.

After Rachel had finished telling her story Santana had gathered the tiny woman up in her arms and held her for all she was worth. She knew no words that could ease the pain the woman's heart so she tried her damndest to vocalize her feelings in that hug.

She knew that even though Rachel was out of the withdrawals that it would take months maybe even years to restore the woman's mental health. And she knew that she would undoubtedly be there for every second of it. She was absolutely devoted to the woman she couldn't help but want to love and protect.

Finally the Latina's body gave up and sleep rushed over her like a tidal wave. With her arms tightly around the petite woman she kissed her one time softly on the forehead before succumbing to a deep dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>So this took forever for to write. The next thing I'll do is another chapter of Leave Me Alone I'm Lonely, but I really want to get better at writing SMUT sooooooooo everyone leave prompts in the comments for this story and I'll totes pick a few of them to write one-shots for.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

Fic: Falling Stars  
>Chapter: Four<br>Author: JR Boone  
>Rating: M for strong sexual themes and violence. Also I have the mouth of a sailor so every other word is a curse usually.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything having to do with it. I wish I did. LOL that would be awesome. It would be like The L Word only musical.  
>AN: This has nothing to do with my Leave Me Alone, I'm Lonely verse. It's just something that I had to get out of my system. Probably six to eight chapters with a few time jumps here and there.

* * *

><p><strong><em>"Putting out the stars and extinguishing the sun."<br>— Ray Bradbury (Fahrenheit 451)_**

Santana couldn't help but smile at Rachel as the woman hectically ran around the kitchen throwing together finger foods. She was clearly exhausted but the smile on her face said otherwise. It had been three months since Santana had found Rachel in that Strip Club and gone were the bruises marring her tanned flesh, the dark rings under her eyes had disappeared leaving healthy radiant skin, and the ribs that had once been threatening to break through her skin were now covered in a healthy protective layer of muscle and fat.

At a glance the girl looked to be the very picture of health these days. Every morning she woke up at eight a.m. and after going for a two mile job she would come home and have a long shower, followed by eating a healthy breakfast as she thumbed through the newspaper. The sickly emaciated drug addict that Santana had stumbled upon was just a memory now.

Rachel had thrown herself whole-heartedly into her recovery and Santana had been there every step of the way. She had had cheered and cried with relief when Quinn Fabray arrived to inform Rachel that she did not have any STDs. She had joined the singer the day she had shakily entered her first NA meeting and then every meeting after that. And she had more than happily offered up her guest room as Rachel's room for as long as the brunette would stay.

But the best change that Santana had seen in Rachel was the fact that she seemed to be truly getting her life back on track. She had found a job working at a restaurant where every night she serenaded the eager tourists with every Broadway Classic in her repertoire. During the day before work she often went to one or two casting calls for some Off-Broadway productions and had managed to land one or two small roles even. But that was all just preparation as she was studiously preparing her application for re-admittance to Julliard, her dream was coming back.

If you didn't know Rachel like Santana did then you would never be able to see the person that lay just below the vibrant excited surface though. For all the progress that had been made in the last three months, the woman was still recovering from the last several years of her life.

No, if you looked as close as Santana did then you would see that her wide smile didn't often meet her eyes, which still had a deep haunted look to them that shook Santana to the bones. If you looked close you would still see the multiple scars on her body that she would carry with her always has reminders, and if you looked closer you would see the forlorn look on her face whenever she noticed one of them in a glance.

And Santana had been looking very close these days. She kind of figured it was inevitable from the moment she found Rachel that she would fall in love with her. You couldn't really help but love someone who you had invested so much of you life in, someone who you had spent long nights holding tightly against your body as tremors and sobs shook their bodies, someone who could bring a smile to your face just by looking at you.

But Santana wasn't stupid. She knew that Rachel was a long way off from being able to enter into any kind of relationship. She knew this but she couldn't help but feel her heart ache every time she accidentally brushed up against the girl and she flinched back in fear. It was a natural reaction after all she had been through. Santana knew this, and she was more than willing to wait for her. It was enough for her right now that she knew in her heart that Rachel returned her feelings.

They were just waiting.

* * *

><p><em>Three Weeks Ago<em>

"_Ugh don't you get enough of this stuff at work," Rachel groaned as Santana flipped the t.v. to a rerun of Law and Order._

"_Yah I mostly just do it to annoy you," Santana said snickering as she tossed a piece of popcorn at the brunette woman. _

"_You did not just toss your butter laden popcorn at me right?" Rachel said raising a brow and glaring at the Latina._

"_Who me?" Santana said nonchalantly as she tossed another piece._

"_Lopez unless you would appreciate me emptying this bowl of fruit on your pretty little head, I suggest you desist this childish behavior," Rachel threatened, narrowing her eyes at the lawyer._

"_I knew you think I'm pretty," Santana laughed as she tossed another piece of popcorn. _

"_Don't say I didn't warn you," Rachel said as she sat her fork to the side and raised the bowl. _

"_You wouldn't," Santana dared raising an eyebrow. _

"_Oh wouldn't I?" Rachel teased bring the bowl slightly closer to the raven haired beauty. _

"_Nope," Santana teased, shaking her head and tossing yet another piece of popcorn at the singer. _

"_You have this coming," Rachel said as she reared back and tossed the contents of the bowl at the woman. _

"_Oh my god!" Santana yelped as she lurched forwards, pieces of fruit sliding down her shirt and becoming entangled in her hair. _

"_My god too," Rachel said smirking as she grabbed the remote, put her feet up on the coffee table, and flipped the channel to The X Factor. _

_Santana sat in shock for a second as fruit juice dripped down her face running into her open sputtering mouth. Rachel just smiled sweetly at her as she reached over and plucked a piece of watermelon off of her shoulder._

"_This. Means. War." Santana ground out as she dumped her bowl of popcorn on the brunette. _

"_Oh my god!" Rachel said jumping up as salty butter dripped through her hair and tiny popcorn kernels went down her shirt._

"_My god too," Santana said smirking. Rachel stood stock still for a second before turning around and looking at the Latina, a dangerous glint in her eye. "Problem Rach?" Santana said innocently as she reclaimed the remote. _

_Suddenly Rachel was on her like white on rice, fingers furiously tickling every inch of skin they could find. Sure it was childish, but Santana didn't give two shits as she rolled underneath the woman, shrieking for mercy as the sweet spot on her hips was discovered. "No! Stop I'm sorry!" Santana cried as joyful tears rolled down her tanned cheeks. _

"_Why are you sorry," Rachel laughed as she redoubled her efforts. _

"_I'm sorry for throwing evil buttery popcorn at you!" Santana shrieked._

"_And?" Rachel asked grinning wildly. _

"_And I'll never do it again," Santana yelped out._

"_Promise?" _

"_Cross my heart," Santana said as the woman finally relented and began to move off her lap. _

_Grinning like the Cheshire Cat Santana took the opportunity and lunged at the retreating woman, quickly pinning her to the couch with a victorious battle cry as she began tickling the woman with earnest. _

"_No! Santana!" Rachel laughed as she kicked from under the woman. One of her kicks connected and Santana's legs went from underneath her, landing her lying on top of the smaller woman with an 'oomph'. _

_For a second both of them were laughing and then realization of their position sank in as one of Santana's knees shifted into the singer's core, Rachel's slight moan stilling both of them in surprise. _

_Santana looked down at the woman beneath her who was staring up at her silently, her dark chocolate eyes darkened with lust. Both of their breaths came out in needy pants as Santana carefully lowered her lips to the brunettes, her eyes open and watching for any sign that she wasn't welcome. Their lips were soon so close they were sharing breaths and Santana stopped, checking one last time only for Rachel to lean her head up and close that last little gap._

_Both girls moaned deeply as the feeling of electricity jolted through their bodies. The kiss was amazing. It was tender and rough. Desperate and soft. Needy and oh so fulfilling. Rachel's soft pink tongue darted across the lawyer's bottom lip, begging for entrance that Santana was all too happy to give. They explored each other's mouths carefully, neither one fighting for dominance as they sunk into the feelings. It was as if in that moment they realized that if they had just done this instead of fighting in High School their lives would have worked out so differently._

_Soon Santana felt a small hand rubbing her back underneath her shirt and she had the control of mind to want to take back ever calling them Man Hands. The touches became needier as Santana's hands snaked up the singer's sides and began rubbing small gentle circles below her left breast, drawing small pants and whimpers from the girl beneath her._

_Desperate for air Rachel broke the kiss and Santana fell to the girl's neck, licking and sucking on the soft supple skin she found there. Rachel tasted amazing and the Latina quickly found herself intoxicated on the slight pulse running underneath her tongue. "I love you," Santana moaned as the hands on her back came underneath her to brush a lace covered nipple._

_Suddenly the bubble they were in burst as Rachel scrambled to get out from underneath the lawyer, hitting the floor with a thud, and jumping to her feet to run away from the stunned Latina. _

"_You can't," Rachel said, her voice dripping with desperation as tears sprang to her eyes._

"_Rachel I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me. I didn't mean to push you," Santana said jumping off the couch and rushing to the brunette. _

"_No," Rachel said backing away from the lawyer and into the wall. "Take it back," she cried, her bottom lip quivering with emotion. _

"_Take what back sweetie," Santana asked carefully as she gazed into fearful brown eyes. _

"_Just take it back Santana," Rachel begged sadly. _

"_I'm sorry Rachel, I thought that you were okay with it," Santana said softly._

"_Not the damn kissing Santana!" Rachel cried, her face falling into her hands._

"_Then what?" Santana said stepping up to the woman and carefully pulling her into her arms._

"_You can't love me," Rachel whimpered into the lawyer's shoulder._

"_Yes I can…I do," Santana said kissing the woman's temple. _

"_No!" Rachel said tearing herself away from the embrace. "You can't love me Santana."_

"_Why not?" Santana demanded refusing to lose the ground she had gained in the last two months._

"_Because I am poison," Rachel said her wavering voice betraying the sternness of her face. _

"_No you're not," Santana stormed back. "You're just going through a hard place."_

"_No damnit!" Rachel said stomping her foot. "Santana you can not be in love with me. You have a life ahead of you damnit and I refuse to drag you down with me!"_

"_Rachel will you listen to yourself! You're not dragging me down damnit. If anything you're raising me up," Santana ground out, shaking her head in disbelief at the woman's reasoning. _

"_I need to go. I shouldn't have stayed here so long," Rachel said, large tears streaming down her face as she stormed towards her bedroom. _

"_No!" Santana cried after her, causing the woman to spin around. _

"_Santana I have to," Rachel begged. "I can't do this to you."_

"_Tell me that you don't love me back Rachel," Santana said, swallowing the fear that rose at her own words._

"_That's not what this is about," Rachel said shaking her head dejectedly_

"_Tell me," Santana said stepping right up the woman till they were nose to nose. "Tell me you don't love me and I'll let you go."_

"_I can't," Rachel whimpered as she stared into passionate demanding eyes._

"_Tell me Rachel."_

"_I…I love you," Rachel whispered, her eyes falling to the ground._

_Santana remained still but inside she felt her heart explode at the woman's admission. There would be time for celebrating later, right now was the time for acting. "Then let me love you back," Santana begged, her voice unwavering with determination. _

"_I can't do that to you Santana. I'm damaged goods," Rachel sighed out._

"_You can't tell me how to feel Rachel," Santana said putting her hand on the woman's chin and raising it till they met eyes. "I know this isn't going to be easy beautiful. It is a long road and I intend to ride it with you every step of the way. And I don't care if it takes me months or years to prove it to you but I am unquestionably, irrevocably, undeniably in love with you, and nothing you or I say is going to make that untrue."_

"_How could you possibly want me?" Rachel asked, her entire body shaking._

"_Some things don't have an explanation Rach. Water is wet, the stars are bright, and I am in love with Rachel Berry, scars and all." Santana said placing a soft kiss to the woman's lips before continuing. "I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow Rachel, I don't even know what is going to happen in an hour, but I do know that I want you to be with me more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, and I am going to prove it to you."_

"_I love you," Rachel sighed as her head fell to the woman's shoulder. _

"_I love you too."_

"_We have to…we have to go slow Santana. I'm not ready to be in a relationship, I'm not even sure of whom I am anymore," Rachel whispered._

"_I don't care if it takes a month or a year for you to be ready Rachel. I'm going to be waiting for you to prove that I love you and I want this," Santana whispered back, kissing the woman's temple. _

"_Can we go lay down," Rachel pleaded, leaning back in the woman's arms. "I just want you to hold me."_

"_We most definitely can do that," Santana said leading them back to the couch and pulling Rachel down into her arms. _

"_We're going to be okay someday," Santana whispered as she kissed the woman's forehead. _

"_When you say it I think I can believe it," Rachel whispered as she burrowed into the arms around her. _

"_Just wait Rachel. Soon you will," Santana promised as she ran her fingers through thick chestnut colored locks, lulling them both to sleep with the words 'I love you' whispered into the night. _

* * *

><p>The sound of a knock on the door snapped Santana out of her memories and she saw Rachel tense nervously at the door. "Hey it's going to be okay," Santana promised as she came up from behind the woman and carefully wrapped her arms around her.<p>

"I'm so scared about this, what if they all look at me and just know," Rachel whimpered as she relaxed into the embrace. She was referring to the old members of the Glee Club that would be arriving within the hour, each one more than excited to see the singer after so long.

It had been Santana and Quinn's idea and Rachel had nervously agreed with the stipulation that none of them be told about what Rachel's life had been like previous to Santana finding her. If asked they would all simply say that after Rachel's fathers deaths she had decided to go to Europe and do some soul searching, and upon arriving back in the States had luckily bumped into Santana, who had graciously offered up her spare room until Rachel found her own place. Santana didn't like lying, but she understood why the woman needed this.

"It's going to be fine, I promise," Santana said as she gently kissed the woman's temple. Since the talk three weeks ago their relationship had slowly progressed to a level of comfort that was perfect for them. Santana was always affectionate to the girl, always thriving to show her that she truly did love her in spite of her history, and she knew that it was beginning to work.

"I'm still scared," Rachel sighed.

"Oh for heaven's sake it's just me damnit!" Came the irate voice of Quinn Fabray through the door.

"Well why didn't you say something?" Rachel groaned as she opened the door.

"I didn't expect you two to have a damn discussion about opening the door," Quinn said exasperatedly as she rambled into the apartment, arms laden with shopping bags filled with sodas. Despite her words, the blonde's tone was warm. She and Rachel had actually developed a close friendship over the past few months and Santana knew that the blonde was just as fiercely protective of the petite brunette as she was.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Santana teased as she started removing sodas from the bags.

"I know you are but what am I?" Quinn grumbled as she perched herself up onto one of the bar stools.

"Says the Med Student," Santana quipped rolling her eyes.

Quinn was about to make a snappy comeback when the doorbell rang and once again Rachel went tense. "I'll just get that then," Quinn said as she headed for the door. A second later a squeal of excitement was heard and the blonde found herself with an armful of Brittany Pierce and Mercedes Jones.

Rachel stood back as Santana ran up and wrapped her arms around the two girls, her chocolate eyes watching the scene before her. Nervously she wringed her tiny hands, "I see you over their Diva," Mercedes laughed as she walked over to the petite brunette.

"Hello Mercedes, it's great to see you," Rachel said extending her hand.

"Girl I know you don't expect me to shake that," Mercedes said raising a brow and then pulling the woman into a tight hug.

Santana and Quinn watched the interaction carefully and released a sigh of relief when Rachel relaxed into the hug with a wide smile. "She's going to be okay Lopez," Quinn whispered as Brittany jumped the two women hugging and wrapped her legs around them.

"I know. I'm just worried it might be too much," Santana whispered back.

"You're in love with her aren't you," Quinn mused nonchalantly.

"That obvious?"

"Totally, it's okay though. You two are good for each other. She calms down your bitchy side," Quinn said resting a hand on the Latina's shoulder as the door bell rang again.

Soon the old gang was rolling through the door in sets of twos, each one more excited than the first to see Rachel after such a long time of what Puck deemed, Jewish Radio Silence. He had earned a good four or five smacks when he compared Rachel's self-impose "silence in Europe" to Anne Frank.

The last to arrive was Finn and Santana had eyed the tall man carefully as he smiled down at Rachel, that old familiar half-smile set in place. There had been a tense moment when Finn had started charming the woman and Santana had been a second away from going and peeing on Rachel's leg when the petite singer had sent her a coy smile and a wink, shaking her head lightly as Finn tried to impress her with police stories.

After that it was more amusing to watch the man try and smooth talk the brunette into submission. "Some things never change," Santana mused to herself as she looked at the goofy charming half smile on the cop's face.

The party had been going on for about two hours when Rachel slipped up to Santana and told her that she was going to go take a breather in her bedroom.

"You okay?" Santana asked instantly worried, completely ignoring Kurt as he rambled on about the clothing line he was developing.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment by myself," Rachel chuckled, letting her head rest for a second on the lawyer's shoulder and gaining a knowing smirk from Kurt.

"Take all the time you need," Santana whispered. Checking around the room she realized that only Kurt was watching them so she felt comfortable with place a soft kiss to the brunettes head. They had decided that because things were still a little shaky and the others had just now been reintroduced to Rachel that they would keep their budding relationship under wraps for the time being.

"I'll be back in a bit," Rachel said smiling softly as she headed for her bedroom.

"So I totally saw that," Kurt said smiling wryly at the Latina.

"Can you keep it between us?" Santana asked quietly.

"No problem," Kurt said smiling happily as he launched back into the clothing discussion.

* * *

><p>Rachel had been lounging on her bed relaxing for about ten minutes mindlessly watching the news when a soft knock on her bedroom door interrupted her.<p>

"Come in," she called as she sat up straighter.

"Hey," Finn said poking his head in. "You mind if I hide out in here with you for a while? Puck keeps grilling me for ways to not get arrested," the tall man said laughing lightly.

"Welcome to my sanctuary," Rachel said smiling at her ex warmly.

"Thanks you're a life saver," Finn hummed as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "I'm really glad to see you Rach," he said as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

"I'm glad to see you too Finn, I'm sorry it's been so long."

"It's okay, you don't need to apologize," Finn remarked as he fidgeted slightly with the woman's blanket.

"Everything okay?" Rachel asked as she took in the man's nervous appearance.

"I'm actually really really glad to see you Rachel. I never stopped thinking about you all these years," he said smiling crookedly at the woman.

Inside Rachel scoffed at the thought but outwardly she smiled warmly at him. "It's good to know I was missed."

"More than missed," Finn mumbled. "So," he said awkwardly. "I was wondering if you're seeing anyone these days."

Rachel fought the urge to roll her eyes at the question but answered anyways. "I'm not really seeing anyone, but there is someone in my life right now," she answered cryptically.

"So if I were to ask you out to dinner tonight?" Finn asked, leaving it open-ended.

"I would have to say as friends I would love to go to dinner with you, but romantically no I'm sorry." Rachel replied truthfully.

"Oh…okay. Well then friends dinner it will be," Finn said, his telltale smirk revealing that he obviously thought he had an in.

Just looking at the man's face Rachel instantly regretted saying yes, but she decided that it would be rude to renege now. "Yes friends," she confirmed.

Quickly the two fell into an awkward silence and they watched the news together for a few minutes, each one putting there two cents in on whatever was being reported at the second.

It was one news story that Rachel had been following closely that snapped her attention fully onto the television as a female reporter began reading off her teleprompter.

**_"I'm Patricia Hart with breaking news from the governor's office. The bill knows as Amy's bill has been passed after a tight fight between the state senate. Those familiar with the bill know that it is a bill that will grant higher protection to Sex Workers in New York. Guaranteeing them protection from prosecution if they come forwards and report sex crimes committed against them. The bill will also shorten time that workers spend in prison if found guilty of prostitution and focus more heavily on rehabilitation programs. The bill has been a subject to debate for the last year after it was drawn up when the grisly rape and murder of seventeen year old, sex worker Amy Johnson was committed."_**

"What a waste of tax dollars," Finn groaned, immediately snapping Rachel's attention to the man.

"I'm sorry?" Rachel questioned, her brows furrowing lightly.

"That bill. It's a complete waste of tax dollars," Finn said shrugging his broad shoulders.

"You don't think that they deserve legal protection?" Rachel asked carefully.

"No I don't think that a bunch of crack whores and hookers deserve protection. My job is to protect citizens who don't break the law, not baby a bunch of failures," Finn said harshly.

"H-how can you say that?" Rachel asked quietly, her breathing beginning to quicken.

"Rachel I'm a cop. I work with these people day in and day out. They are the worst of the worst and if I had it my way they would be rounded up and sent to live on a deserted island," Finn huffed.

"That's horrible," Rachel said sniffling slightly at the harsh words from her friend.

"No it's realistic. Those hoes don't need protection."

"But…but it's not their fault," Rachel protested weakly.

"Please, Rachel doesn't be naïve. Nothing happens to those kinds of people that they aren't asking for. They're the ones who decided that instead of getting a real job that they would just sell themselves for money," Finn said shaking his head.

"You don't understand," Rachel said, a fat tear rolling down her cheek as she started to shake lightly.

"Awe don't cry for those people Rachel. They don't deserve it. All of this protection crap that they are talking about in that bill is just liberal bullshit. We have a saying on the force, 'there's no such thing as a raped hooker, just a victim of shoplifting," Finn said, chuckling at his own joke.

Rachel could feel the panic attack coming on but was helpless to stop it. She had heard these words before, but never from someone she cared about. Finn was unknowingly laying out all of her insecurities bare and every word he said was sending memories she was desperate to forget flying before her eyes.

Finn being Finn couldn't see the reaction going in front of him for what it was and just continued talking; trying to make the woman see what he figured was the right point of view. "And this whole lighter prison sentences and rehabilitation thing is the biggest lie of all."

"What do you mean," Rachel squeaked out as she remembered all of the rapes she had endured over the years; altercations that Finn had just called shoplifting.

"They would be better just locking them up for good Rach. They are perverts. The ideal of a 'rehabilitated hooker' is just a myth," he said, actually using finger quotes. "They don't rehabilitate. Sure they may stop hooking because they find a sugar daddy to take them in, but in the end they are still just selling their body. Once a hooker always a hooker. They are a scourge and all they can do after they have made that decision to hook is bring everyone down with them. No one loves a hooker, and anyone who thinks that they do is just a fool. Once the goods are broken there ain't no putting them back together." Finn finished his usually calm voice passionate with indignation.

Something inside Rachel cracked. All of her fears. All of her insecurities. All of them were being confirmed right in front of her face. She felt like she was going to be sick and her fingers clung to her pillow tightly…no not her pillow. Santana's pillow. Everything she owned was Santana's. It was all bought and paid for by Santana.

Her heart was breaking and releasing desperate drowning cries to not believe the man's words, but they were weak, she was weak, and she was scared; suddenly more scared than she had ever been in her life.

"Run!" Her brain screamed at her. "Get out of here before you drag Santana down with you! She already thinks she loves you!"

"Rachel are you okay?" Finn asked, finally noticing the way that Rachel's skin had paled and her body was trembling. "Rach?" He asked, putting a large hand on her knee.

"Oh god," Rachel sobbed. Jumping of the bed her only thought was to run, to run so far away that Santana would be able to forget her, so she wouldn't fall with her.

She tore out of her door with a purpose, startling Artie and Blaine who were waiting for the bathroom in the hall. Frantically her eyes turned to the hall door and she made a mad dash for it, blowing past all the startled Glee members who were staring at the now hysterical brunette with wide eyes.

"Rachel!" Santana yelled, lunging across the living room as Rachel made it to the door and yanked it open.

Rachel heard her call and just ran faster, tearing down the hall and throwing herself in the elevator. "Rachel stop!" Santana yelled as she barreled down the hall, Quinn hot on her heals. "Fuck!" Santana yelled as the door slid shut just as she reached it. Quickly she mashed the button for the other elevator and let out a roar of anger when she noticed the Out Of Order sign hanging on it.

"The stairs!" Quinn yelled as she tossed open the door to the stairwell.

The two woman bounded down the stairs taking two at a time so fast that there were a few times they were momentarily afraid that they were going to lose their footing and come crashing down. Breathing heavily they made it to the bottom floor and tore out of the apartment lobby, startling the other people who were heading in.

They threw open the front door and frantically scanned the crowded street for a flash of chestnut locks to no avail. "Rachel!" Santana wailed as her eyes flew across the crowd, large angry tears rolling down her cheek. The Latina fell to her knees in desperation, praying that the brunette would suddenly appear in front of her.

Quinn hit the ground next to her and wrapped her arms around the lawyer. "We've got to find her Quinn," Santana cried out. "I can't live without her!"

"I know Santana, we're going to find her I promise," Quinn said stroking the woman's raven colored hair.

A rage that Santana had never known in her life coursed through her veins and she jumped to her feet, tearing into her apartment building. Quinn followed behind closely, knowing exactly what was about to happen the second the elevator dinged at the woman's floor.

"Finn!" Santana screamed as she stormed into her apartment where the rest of the Glee Club was still standing in shock.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" Santana screamed as she threw herself at the tall man and knocked him to the floor, her fists raining down hell on the cop's face.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Finn cried as he tried to defend himself.

Two strong sets of arms pulled the furious lawyer off the body and she kicked in the air, screaming like a banshee in desperation. "What the fuck did you do to her?" She screamed again from Puck and Mike's arms.

"I didn't do shit!" Finn bellowed as he stood up.

"Liar! What did you do?"

"Nothing I swear! We were just watching the news and talking about that stupid fucking bill that passed and she went fucking crazy!" Finn yelled as he rubbed his bruised face.

"What bill?" Santana barked out, already knowing the answer.

"The hooker one! You know fucking Andy's bill or whatever it was!" Finn answered.

"What the fuck did you say to her?"

"I just told her the truth. She was being all bleeding heart naïve about it, so I set her straight. I'm a cop, I know this shit!"

"You don't know shit Finn Hudson!" Santana bellowed her vision blinded with rage.

"Why the hell did she go off like that?" Finn asked angrily.

"She hasn't been in fucking Europe you moron! She's been fucking living on the goddamn streets hooking for money!"

Finn's eyes as well as everyone in the rooms widened in disbelief and they all recoiled as if physically slapped by them. "No that is crap," Finn yelled, his face beet red. "Rachel wouldn't do that."

"It's true," Quinn cried out, as she unfroze and ran to the Latina's side to try and calm her. "I was here the night Santana found her."

"No fucking way!" Finn yelled.

"Fuck you Finn Hudson! Do you have any idea what you have done! For the love of god she was just starting to get better!" Santana cried, large tears beginning to blind her vision. "Do you have any idea what she's been through? She has been raped damnit! She lost a fucking child damnit! She was fucking using fucking heroin damnit!" Santana screamed as she broke free from Puck and Mike's arms and flew towards the man, only to be caught by Quinn.

"Santana stop!" Quinn screamed, using all her strength to hold the lawyer.

"I'm going to fucking kill him!" Santana screamed.

"I had no idea!" Finn cried out, large tears beginning to roll down his reddened face.

"You stupid motherfucker!" Santana screamed.

"Santana stop damnit!" Quinn yelled. "Stop! I know you want to kill him! But we have to go find her now before she uses!"

"Oh god!" Santana wailed out desperately.

"I didn't know," Finn cried out.

"I swear to god Finn Hudson!" Santana said pointing a finger at the boy. "If anything happens to Rachel I will fucking kill you!" The lawyer threatened angrily.

"Santana we have to go now!" Quinn said pushing her forcefully to the door.

"I will fucking kill you!" Santana screamed once again as Quinn pushed her out in the hallway, her fiery eyes making contact with the man's guilt filled ones one last time before she turned on her heels and ran to the elevator, Quinn and the rest of the shell-shocked club minus Finn hot on her heels.

"We have to find her," Santana wailed helplessly in Quinn's arms as Puck button mashed for the elevator. "We have to find her."


	5. Chapter 5

Fic: Falling Stars  
>Chapter: Five<br>Author: JR Boone  
>Rating: M for strong sexual themes and violence. Also I have the mouth of a sailor so every other word is a curse usually.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything having to do with it. I wish I did. LOL that would be awesome. It would be like The L Word only musical.  
>AN: This has nothing to do with my Leave Me Alone, I'm Lonely verse. It's just something that I had to get out of my system. Probably six to eight chapters with a few time jumps here and there.  
><strong>AN 2: Sorry it took so long for an update guys. Had a hell of a time getting back to the States and getting myself acclimated to the time and weather changes. **

_Just because everything's changing, doesn't mean it's never been this way before. All you can do is try to know who your friends are, as you head off to the war. Pick a star on the dark horizon and follow the light. You'll come back when it's over, no need to say goodbye._

_-Regina Spektor "The Call"_

**Six Hours Missing**

Santana had thrown open the door to the cab before it even came to a complete stop in front of The Pussy Box. Pulling her coat around herself tightly she began taking long strides to the shady business as she battled through the onslaught of snow that had began falling hours ago.

_As soon as the lawyer had found out what Finn had said she had barreled out of the apartment building in search of the petite woman with a worried Quinn in tow. They had spent the better part of three hours searching the area around the apartment, popping into every coffee shop and store they could until finally Quinn had dragged the frenzied Latina home when the snow began falling in buckets._

_Back at the apartment Brittany had quickly organized the still shell shocked group into action and when the women returned they found every single member on their cell phones fighting with old acquaintances they had found in Rachel's address book, her coworkers from the play she had done as well as the bar she worked at, and every hospital within a hundred miles of the City. Finn stood in a corner yelling at the local precinct on the phone that he was a cop and he knew all about the 24 hour policy and that they could shove it up their collective asses._

_As they stood at the door taking it all in, Puck had barged in behind them with flyers he had made up at the copy shop down the street and a few maps of the city. Shrugging off his coat he pulled Santana and Quinn over to the kitchen counter and spread out the maps in front of them._

_"Where should we go?" He asked looking to the lawyer for guidance. _

_Santana was overwhelmed to say the least. Her body was physically exhausted from trudging through the freak weather and her emotions were completely blown as every worst case scenario she could think of ran through her mind. Looking at her ex-boyfriend all she could do was stutter as she stared down at the maps until she felt strong hands on her shoulders pulling her to her side._

_"Santana we will find her," Quinn said, her hazel eyes looking confidently into Santana's watery brown ones. "We will find her but you have to help us. Where should we look?"_

_"I'm so scared," Santana whimpered as her mind desperately tried to catch up with the situation. _

_"There is no time to be scared Santana. Rachel needs you," Quinn demanded as she tightened her grip on the Latina's shoulders. _

_Those words were all it took for Santana to catch up. Rachel needs you. Shaking her head out of the fog she quickly turned towards the map and grabbed a marker from the counter. "We need to spread out. I am marking every place that I know Rachel has been in this city," she said as she began marking down locations._

_Grabbing another marker Quinn took the maps that Santana had finished and started making marks on them. "All of these places I'm marking are the homeless shelters and clinics I know. Rachel didn't take a jacket with her and she is going to be looking for some place to get out of that fucking weather."_

_"Santana I'm on the phone with the cab company right now. How many should I call?" Kurt said as she rushed to the lawyer's side. _

_Looking at the group Santana counted them up in her head before turning to the petite man. "Tell them to send to send eight cabs and tell them that they are going to be doing a lot of stopping and going. Also tell them to put in on account number 87b4 at Richardson and McDowell."_

_"On it," Kurt said as he briskly walked away from the table while shooting demands into the cell. _

_"Everybody get over here," Santana called out as she paired each map with a flyer. "Hudson I want you to go to every police precinct in this damn city and I don't want you to leave them until there is APB out at every single one. Got it," Santana demanded, her eyes narrowing at the embarrassed man._

_"I'm on it," Finn said, not meeting the angry Latina's eyes._

_"Quinn you and Brittany go to all the area hospitals and free clinics and push the photo around. Blaine I want you and Kurt to canvas the theatre district, maybe she has a friend from the show she went to. The rest of you just cover the areas on your map. Artie I want you to stay here and keep calling people. Everyone got it?" A volley of yes's rang out around the room and Santana stared at them all expectedly for a few seconds before throwing her hands up in the air. "Then go!" _

_As if the woman had just lit a fire under their asses all of them were moving towards the door in under a second. "Everyone bring an extra jacket with you," Quinn said as she pulled on her own coat. "San where are you going?" Quinn asked turning on the Latina. _

_"I'm going to find her," Santana said squaring her jaw._

_"Don't do anything stupid Santana," Quinn said, her mind instantly going to the seedy strip club where she had found Rachel. _

_"Just get going," Santana said darkly as she pulled on her own coat._

Santana watched from the shadows as the last few people trickled out of the club and tightened her grip on the handgun she had picked up on the way there. One good thing about being a major defense lawyer in this city was that you made friends who could get you things; the three day background check be damned. Another good thing was that these friends could be called upon you to really help out if you just looked the other way once or twice; in return they would look the other way for you.

When she saw the neon sign above the door switch off and the rest of the employees leave she knew that it was now or never. Quickly she made her way to the door and didn't think twice about firing the handgun off at the lock; the silencer barely making a ping about the roaring snowstorm.

Kicking open the door she stalked inside and looked around warily for any sign of security, smirking when she realized that Mickey was just the kind of guy who wouldn't bother to pay for security. The hallway leading to the private rooms glowed and Santana stealthily made her way across the club towards it. She sucked in a pained breath at the sight of the room she had paid for that first night when she found Rachel, but shook her head to clear her mind.

Walking steadily down the hall stopped in front of each door and listened carefully for any sounds behind them. Finally she reached the second to last door and stilled at what sounded like an electric money counting machine. Taking a deep breath she stepped in front of the door and aimed at the doorknob, just in case it was locked.

As the door flew open bills flew wild in the office as Mickey let out a startled yell and began pawing at one of the drawers to his desk.

"Hold it right there motherfucker!" Santana bellowed as she covered the distance between them in three quick strides and pushed cold black steel against clammy trembling skin. Not taking her eyes off the man she reached into the drawer and fished out a customized gold plated handgun with the initials MI inscribed on the barrel. "Not today dickwad," she snarled as she tossed the gun out into the hall.

"What the fuck do you want you crazy bitch?" Mickey asked as he turned and looked up the barrel of the gun. "Oh it's you. You fucking owe me a lot of money little girl."

"I don't owe you fucking anything you piece of shit. Now where the fuck is Rachel?"

"I have no clue what you're talking about bitch," Mickey managed to sneer out.

"Don't fucking play with me you asshole. Where the fuck is she?" Santana demanded, grinding the gun into the man's sweat drenched forehead.

"Do you know who the fuck you're threatening you little spic?" Mickey said, only barely managing to keep the fear out of his voice.

"Oh I know exactly who I'm threatening. Mickey Inzerello, born Schultz. You're a small time piece of shit associate for the Gambino's. You used to be hot shit but you couldn't keep your dick in your pants Mickey. Stupid mistake. Now you're just a washed up hanger-on and I would be doing the whole world and the mob a favor by pulling this trigger and watching you eat hot lead."

"You-you're bluffing bitch," Mickey sputtered out, not even managing to keep the fear out of his voice now.

"Not in this world Mickey. Now do you have any fucking clue who I am?"

"A meddling bitch!"

"Oh no Mickey, that's where you're dead wrong," Santana snapped out, inches away from the man's face. "My name is Santana Fucking Lopez and I am gonna be your worst nightmare if you don't tell me what I want to know. You see I work for a pretty prestigious law firm here in the Big Apple and one of my clients just happens to be someone you know. The name Johnny Puccini ring a bell Mickey?"

"Fuck you bitch," Mickey gasped out as his face turned a violent red color.

"Oh you do know that name don't ya. Or at least you know his girlfriend Marina. You see I called Johnny and wouldn't you know it he is still sore about you fucking his girlfriend Mickey." Santana ground out, her voice so sharp Mickey could practically feel it cutting his face.

"I-I don't know anything," Mickey wavered out.

"Stop lying to me Mickey!" Santana bellowed. "You see I talked to Johnny and he explained to me that you've become something of a liability to the family. Walking around the city like you're some kind of big shot, it's not good for the business. And I told Johnny that you had caused me some major problems and that if they weren't rectified to my liking then he and all the rest of the family was going to have to get some new representation when I get my partnership in six months."

"Fuck you, you crazy slut," Mickey whimpered out.

"He really didn't like that. Me and Johnny, hell the family and our law firm have a great repoir if you will. So here's the deal Mickey, from me and my friends to you, you little piss ant. I'm going to ask you one more time, where the fuck is Rachel?" Santana demanded, her cold dark eyes locked onto his.

"I-I…I don't know where she is now," Mickey admitted, his eyes flitting between the lawyer's and the gun.

"When did you see her?" Santana growled out, not missing the now in his sentence.

"I-I," Mickey stuttered out.

"I'm not fucking playing Mickey!" Santana bellowed as she cocked a bullet into the chamber, causing the trembling man to release his bladder as the clicking sound reverberated around the room.

"Oh god I'll tell you," Mickey cried out. "She came by around three hours ago! She said she needed her place back and I told her she could go fuck herself sideways!"

"And after that?" Santana yelled.

"I told her to fucking beat it or she was gonna end up at the bottom of the Hudson!"

"And after that!"

"She left all right! I promise! She bummed a couple hundred bucks off of one of the other dancers more some junk and left! I promise that's all I know!" Mickey pleaded and cried, large fat tears rolling down his reddened face.

"Where would she go buy!" Santana demanded.

"Down on fifth! That's where she always got her stuff! Ask for Tommy, he's one of my boys! Just please go!"

"Mickey you scumbag you better hope I find her," Santana snarled as she reared back the gun and brought the butt of it down on his crooked nose. Blood flew out and the fat man clutched his face and wailed in pain as the Latina strode out of his office. Bending over she picked up his gun and tucked it into the back of her jeans.

"You crazy bitch!" He screamed from the office. "You're going to be fucking sorry!"

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Santana said smirking as she stepped back out in the snow.

Parked next to the door was a large black Towncar and two men were leaning against it with crossed arms sizing up the Latina. Purposefully she strode up to the back left door and the window slid down.

"Everything go okay Ms. Lopez?" Came a smooth heavily accented voice of an older gentleman.

"Everything went well Mr. Puccini," Santana said quickly as she eyed her cab and motioned for the cabbie to start the engine.

"Then I trust that our lawyer client relationship is still strong?"

"Mr. Puccini my firm will continue to serve you and all of your business partners for as long as we're running."

"Ah that is great news. Good lawyers are hard to come by in this damned city."

"That they are."

"Boys would you go clean this up," Puccini said softly making the Latina smirk as the two built men headed towards the opened club door.

"Now I must be going," Santana said, nodding her head slightly.

"Goodnight Ms. Lopez. For what it is worth there are good people out there looking for her as well on my orders."

"Thank you Mr. Puccini," Santana said bowing gracefully. "Goodnight."

She did not feel at all bad when the faint sounds of two guns being fired made their way through the roaring wind as she stepped into her cab. But she did allow herself a tiny smile when two dark figures emerged out of the club and climbed into the Towncar. Some people didn't deserve to live.

**Eight Hours Missing**

Santana kept her hand tightly wrapped around her handgun as she stepped out onto the dark abandoned street. A traffic accident had backed up traffic up for close to two hours and now the lawyer was afraid that she had missed her chance to talk to the drug dealer she was so desperately seeking. She knew that news of Mickey's untimely exit from the game would spread fast and then she might never be able to track down this guy.

She knew that she looked desperately out of place on the destitute street and she hoped that her personality would make up for the fact that she was wearing a pair of Jimmy Chu's. Carefully she observed the few people that she did see out on the block and approached a woman who looked to be in her early twenties that was leaning up against a phone booth.

"You look a little out of place doll," the woman snarked as she sized up the lawyer.

"I'm looking for someone," Santana explained as she took in the woman's appearance.

"Someone or something?" The woman asked sneering.

"Someone," Santana said as she pulled the folded up flyer out of her coat pocket and moved next to the woman until the street light shown over her shoulder. "Have you seen this girl around here?"

The woman rolled her eyes and barely glanced at the flyer before stepping away. "Get on out of here honey. This ain't a place for girls like you."

"No please," Santana pleaded grabbing the woman's wrist.

"Time is money little girl and you're wasting mine," the woman snarled pulling her hand away.

"I can pay you. Just tell me," Santana cried out desperately.

The woman stilled and slowly turned back to the Latina. "How much?"

"I'll give you twenty bucks to just look at this picture and another twenty if you can tell me where to find a guy named Tommy."

"Why you lookin for Tommy?" The girl asked quickly, fear seeping through her voice.

"Rachel…the girl I'm looking for, I think she might of come here to buy from him," Santana explained as she unfolded the flyer.

The girl carefully looked up and down the street before staring down at the photo. "I haven't seen…wait…that's Cherry," she said grabbing the flyer and looking at it carefully.

"You know her?"

"I knew her. I haven't seen her in months some hot lawyer chick took…wait…oh hell no," the woman said pushing the flyer back into Santana's hands. "Are you fucking crazy? If Mickey finds out I'm talking to you I'm fucked."

"No please don't go," Santana begged grabbing the woman's hand again.

"You don't understand. Mickey will kill me," the woman snapped.

"No he won't."

"Oh yah and how do you know that?"

"Because," Santana said looking up and down the street before pulling the woman into the shadows and pulling out Mickey's gun. "That slime isn't going to be doing anything ever again."

The girl stared down at the gun in shock before looking back up at the lawyer. "He's dead?" She asked, a large tear rolling down her cheek.

"Yes," Santana said nodding her head slowly.

"Are you some kind of angel or something?" The woman said as she wiped away her tears.

"I just want to find my friend," Santana said putting the gun away.

"I haven't seen her for months but I didn't get out here till about two hours ago," she woman said looking down at the flyer.

"And Tommy?" Santana asked stepping back out into the street.

"He's up there on the corner. Kid in the gold jacket," the woman said stepping next to the Latina and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Here," Santana said handing her the extra jacket she had brought with her.

"Thanks," the woman said shrugging it on.

"Look," Santana said reaching back into her pockets and pulling out a business card. "This is the address of a clinic I know down in Brooklyn. Go there tomorrow and ask for Quinn Fabray, she's a friend and she's gonna help you out," Santana explained as she passed the woman the piece of paper and a hundred dollar bill.

"I…thank you," the woman said staring down at the money and address. "I hope you find her. Cherry was a sweet girl…she helped me out when I first got out here."

"I hope I find her too," Santana said as she pulled her coat tight around her shoulders and headed down the street.

Again she tightened her grip on her gun as she neared the end of the street and looked around. As if she had called to him a guy who looked barely fifteen stepped out of the shadows and slowly circled her.

"What's up sexy thing? You get lost?" He asked snickering as he sized her up.

"You Tommy?" Santana asked, keeping her eyes and the boy and her hand tightly wrapped around the gun.

"I'm whoever you want me to be baby," he laughed obnoxiously loud.

"I'm not your baby and I'm not fucking around. Are you Tommy?" Santana asked the teenager.

"Oh got some claws on you. Yah I'm Tommy, what can I do you for?"

"This girl, did she come by here earlier?" Santana said holding the flyer up to him.

A flicker of recognition flashed through his glazed over eyes before it blinked out and he adopted a offensive pose. "What the fuck is it to you?" He barked out at the Latina.

"It's the fucking world to me. When did you see her?"

"I didn't see nobody," he growled out.

"Don't fuck me with me little boy. When was she here?"

"You have any clue who you're fucking around with? Coming round asking questions and shit? Crazy motherfucker will kill you."

"Oh yah?" Santana asked as the snow began to fall heavily around them so thick she couldn't see two feet beyond them. "Crazy motherfucker is dead," she snapped pulling out Mickey's gun and pointing it at the boy.

"You're fucking crazy," he stammered out staring down at the gold painted gun.

"You bet your ass I am. Now tell me when you saw her and which way she headed or you're gonna join Mickey in the bay," she growled out, tightening her finger around the trigger.

"Fine just lower the damn gun," he pleaded, cautiously putting a hand on the gun barrel and pushing it down slowly. "She came by here about five hours ago and bought some powder," she admitted, pulling the coat tighter around himself.

"Fuck," Santana said shaking her head. All this time she had been so hopeful that Rachel wouldn't use again and now her hopes were dashed. "Where did she go after that?" Santana asked putting away the gun.

"She got in some John's car up at the top of the street. Beats me where they went after that," he said shrugging his shoulders.

"That's all you fucking know?" Santana asked pushing the boy's shoulders angrily.

"Damn girl chill the fuck out," the teen said stepping away from the lawyer. "Look that's all I fucking know okay. She came, she bought, and then she took off."

"Fuck!" Santana bellowed rubbing her temple.

"Hey I'm sorry," he said, the softness of his voice betraying the image he was trying to present.

"It's not your fault," Santana mumbled wiping a tear from her face.

"I knew her. Back in the day. We worked at the diner together," the boy admitted shoving his hands in his pockets for warmth. "I asked her what she was doing back out here and she just looked so damn confused."

"I have to find her," Santana said shaking her head.

"You will Mami. If it helps the car she got into, I don't know it. Doesn't look like anyone who ever comes around here. Person looked a little lost to tell the truth," he said scratching his head.

"Thanks," Santana said reaching into her pocket and pulling out another of the Clinic's business cards. "Take this," she said offering it to him.

"Naw," he said waving it away. "I'm good out here. Mickey really dead?"

"Yah he is," Santana said shoving the card into the boy's hand.

"Good luck," he said tucking the card into a pocket.

"Go there and ask for Quinn," Santana said over her shoulder as she headed back to her cab.

"Maybe I will," she heard him say as he disappeared back down an ally.

**Twelve Hours Missing**

"We're gonna find her San," Quinn said as she dropped down on the couch next to the lawyer.

"I know we are," Santana growled as she pushed through the papers on the coffee table.

All around them Glee members were sitting on the floor and leaning against the walls as they shouted into their cell phones. They were reaching out to every person they could possibly think to call and some they had just dialed for the hell of it. Cross the room Mike was talking in rapid Chinese as he called family members he knew to be living in Little China while Finn was pacing back and forth on the phone with yet another police precinct.

A few hours ago Brittany had managed to track down Rachel's dorm mate and was busy getting a list from the girl of practically every person that had come in contact with at Julliard and Blaine was on the phone with the director of the play Rachel had been in.

A few hours ago their numbers had grown when some of Rachel's coworkers had shown up, and a little after that Kurt had managed to push a very confused Jesse St. James and Sunshine Corozone through the door and the two were currently calling every contact that they had in the city as well.

After an unexpected phone call her boss Michael Richardson had shown up with several interns and they were currently camped out in the kitchen calling down their own contacts as well.

Santana barely registered a knock on the door and only nodded at Puck in thanks as the man headed towards it, a few seconds later the very familiar voices of William Schuster, Emma Pillsbury, and Shelby Corcoran. "When was the last time you saw her?" Shelby asked marching into the room.

"Twelve hours ago," Santana said shoving a stack of papers into the woman's hand.

"Santana I want you to know," Shelby started but snapped her mouth shut when the lawyer fixed her with a deadly look.

"Right now is not the time Shelby. I'm glad you are all here helping and after we find Rachel we can all get our kumbaya-yas out but right now it is twenty-two degrees out there and we have to find her," Santana ground out, leveling the woman with a cold glare.

"Right," Shelby said nodding her head and looking down at the papers.

"Santana I've got April Rhodes on the phone right now, she's here in the city right now. Do you want here?" Schuster asked stepping up to the Latina.

"Yes I do," Santana glancing up at the man. "Does anyone else know anyone here in the city!" She called out to the assorted group.

"I think Bryan Ryan is living here now," Will said as she walked away with his cellphone again.

"I think some of the Warblers are here too," Blaine said pulling an address book out of his bag.

"Good anyone else?" Santana barked looking at the others.

"Karovsky is heading over right now," Sam said putting a hand over the mouth of his cell.

"Open up Sloppy Babies," came a gravely voice from beyond the front door.

"Oh god really?" Will said as Puck pulled open the front door and was pushed back as Sue Sylvester strutted in and shrugged off a red track-parka.

"Hey Coach," Santana said as she handed the woman a stack of papers.

"What are you doing here Sue?" Will asked running a hand through his curly hair.

"Well Will as my Cheerios all know I spent three years in the Marines Special Search and Rescue Unit, now step aside before the fumes that are still wafting out of the mop on your head incapacitate me," the woman said pushing Will aside and glaring at Sam until he jumped out of the armchair.

The sound of the home phone ringing sent Santana flying across the apartment and she jerked it to her ear hopefully. "Rachel!"

"Is this Santana Lopez?" Came the gravely voice of a woman Santana didn't recognize.

"Yes it is. Who is this?" Santana asked stepping away from the group.

"You don't know me sweetheart. My name's Ivy."

"I know about you. What do you want?" Santana asked sharply.

"I…Have you found her yet?"

"What's it to you bitch?" Santana growled.

"I…I can't make up for what I've done. I know that. I also know that Mickey is probably saving a spot in hell for me, but Cherry was a sweet girl. And she is the first one who ever got away from Mickey, I'll be damned if she just ends up sinking back into the cesspool." The woman said, her voice heavy with guilt.

"What do you know?" Santana demanded.

"I don't know anything. But there was something she said…it stuck with me. I was hoping it could help."

"What did she say?" Santana asked, hopefulness managing to make its way to her voice again.

"The night…after Mickey turned her out. She said that she wished she could just try disappearing again. I don't know what it meant. I mean most girls say they want to die after that, but Cherry said she wanted to try disappearing again. Like she had already done it."

"Oh my god," Santana gasped as realization hit her like a freight train.

"Does it help?" The woman asked softly.

"Yes it does!" Santana cried. "Thank you I have to go," Santana said running back into the room and slamming the phone down on the jack. "We have to go now!" she yelled as she ran towards the heap of jackets next to the door.

"Do you know where she is?" Quinn asked jumping off the couch and heading to the pile.

"Why the fuck didn't I think about it!" Santana yelled as she ran out the front door.

"San let me call a cab," Quinn said as she and the group of nearly thirty people piled out of the room.

"There's no time the snow is three feet deep," Santana yelled as she threw open the door to the stairwell and started running down them two at a time.

The group caught up with the Latina halfway down the block and followed her closely as they made their way through the city that was just beginning to wake up around them. The only good thing about the freak snow storm was that most of the roads were closed and they made their way through the city quickly.

Within thirty minutes Central Park loomed in front of them and Santana quickly barreled into the park with the group hot on her tail. The few people who had decided to brave the weather and make their way into the park stared oddly as the group ran down the path, headed by a desperate looking Latina and ended with a few rather pudgy looking men wearing suits.

Just as the sun peaked over the top of a skyscraper the snow lightened and Santana caught sight of a small dot sitting on a park bench across the central field. "Rachel," she whimpered as she took off across the field, running for all that she was worth.

She couldn't hear the group trampling the snow behind her or the dogs barking at he end of the field. All she could hear was the wind rushing by her ears as she closed in on the petite brunette.

After what felt like an hour but was only twenty seconds Santana reached the brunette and stopped in front of her. "Rach?" She breathed out as she dropped to her knees in front of the brunette.

"San?" The girl asked weakly as her eyes flitted open and focused on the lawyer.

"Oh god you're freezing," Santana said as she pulled off her coat and wrapped it around the woman.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whimpered as the Latina wrapped her arms around her.

"You don't have to be sorry Baby," Santana said as she rubbed the woman's arms and took in her violent shivers and blue lips.

"Oh god," Quinn said as she reached the couple and pulled out her cellphone. Quickly the blonde punched in a few numbers and brought the phone to her ear. "I need an ambulance at Central Park. There is a woman here in second stage hypothermia." She demanded as she stepped away from them and started shooting off directions to where they were in the park.

"I'm so sorry," Rachel whimpered as she sank into Santana's side.

"It's okay Sweetheart," Santana whispered into the woman's ear.

"I couldn't do it," Rachel managed to say through her chattering teeth.

"Do what Baby?" Santana asked as she began rubbing her hands down the woman's arms and pulled her fists into hers.

Around them the group huddled and piled assorted coats around them as the sound of sirens began to sound through the snowy morning.

"I just couldn't," Rachel said as she unfisted her hands revealing a bag of coke. "I could do it," Rachel explained.

"Oh baby," Santana said pulling the bag out of her hands and handing it off to someone to dispose of.

"I bought it…and I just couldn't," Rachel said, starting to cry hard. "I just found someone willing to take me here and I just wanted to go back to you but I was afraid."

"It's going to be okay," Santana promised rubbing the woman's hands and letting out a sigh of relief as all of her fears slipped out of her head. Rachel was safe in her arms.

"I was falling. You caught me," Rachel whimpered as a group of EMT's raced towards them.

"I will always catch you Rachel," Santana promised, kissing the woman softly on the lips and looking into her eyes. "I will always catch you."


	6. Chapter 6

Fic: Falling Stars  
>Chapter: Six (Final Chapter)<br>Author: JR Boone  
>Rating: M for strong sexual themes and violence. Also I have the mouth of a sailor so every other word is a curse usually.<br>Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or anything having to do with it. I wish I did. LOL that would be awesome. It would be like The L Word only musical.  
>AN: Well here it is guys, the ending. I absolutely loved writing this story because it is an issue that is very close to me. A very good friend of mine lost her life after her parents died through depression and drugs. I hope you all enjoyed this.  
><strong>AN 2: As always I don't own these characters. But the song is entitled Falling Stars and I do own that. Twas written by me. Totally own that. lol **

"_Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world."  
>- Harriet Tubman<em>

**Eight Years Later**

Santana smiled as the familiar tune of "Fondue For Two" boomed out over the speakers and enthusiastically jumped up with the rest of the audience as Brittany Pierce danced out into the audience shaking hands up and down the rows. When the bubbly blonde reached Santana she wrapped her into tight hug before strutting back over to her stage and smiling widely up at her excited audience.

"Hey there everybody!" She yelled out happily after the audience had culled their clapping down from the roar it had been. "I'm so excited to see everyone here today so excited just to see me!" She said smiling and then chuckled when the audience laughed. "No no I'm just kidding. I know why we sold out tickets today for something you can easily see on T.V." she joked.

"Today we have a really special show today with my good friend Rachel Berry-Lopez who is here to talk life, love, and business! And after the interview she is going to grace us with her amazing talent and a song off of her debut album due out this fall!" The blonde said brightly to the excited cheer of the audience. "So stick around everybody and we'll be back after a few words from our sponsors! And after that no commercials for the entire hour!"

Santana smiled fondly at her one time lover as the woman was ushered off the stage into the ready hands of a peppy make-up crew. The blonde had truly made all her dreams come true in the years since graduation. She had an extremely successful dance career, proudly listing lead back up dancer for such acts as Britney Spears, Lady Gaga, and Mercedes Jones as well as a Tony Award for her performance in the Broadway revival of Cats under her always fashionable belt.

A knee injury had taken her our of the dance world five years ago but the blonde had refused to let that setback bring her down and had won another two Tony Awards for her choreography in only three years. Two years ago when Ellen DeGenerous had retired from show business the infamous "power lesbian" had handled over the realms of her talk show to the blonde and since then Brittany S. Pierce had become a name known all around the world.

The cheering of the crowd snapped her out of her musings and she smiled as Brittany retook the stage and headed over to her chair. "Alright guys I know everyone is anxious to get on with this so without further a due I would love to welcome Rachel Berry-Lopez to the stage!"

Santana couldn't help but bust out laughing as "My Headband" started blaring out in the studio and her wife danced onto the stage blushing furiously and smiling a thousand-watt smile at her fans. When Rachel made her way over to Brittany the pair hugged warmly and took their seats across from each other.

"Hey there pretty lady," Brittany bubbled out when the audience calmed down from a deafening roar.

"Hey back at you beautiful," Rachel beamed widely.

"I'm so happy to finally drag you onto our little show here," Brittany teased laying a pale hand on the singer's.

"I'm so sorry Britt. I swear I wanted to come on before this but I've been so busy," Rachel said dipping her head apologetically as the squeezed the blonde's hand.

"I'd say busy is the understatement of the century," Brittany laughed gleefully.

"Okay maybe a little more than busy," Rachel smiled coyly.

"Like two Tony Awards and an Emmy busy," Brittany gushed. "Let's get down to business and talk about your illustrious career."

"Oh gosh I've been so blessed," Rachel said smiling. "As you all may know last night I performed my three-hundredth and final show last night on the Broadway revival of Rent last night."

Again the crowd was on their feet cheering and whistling and Santana couldn't be more proud and amused as Rachel tried to hide her self-satisfied smile behind graceful humbleness. When the audience had once again settled Brittany grinned at the brunette. "And you were amazing! I swear on my Kurt Hummel designer shoes that no one has ever played Mimi better than you." Santana giggled at the shameless plug and imagined Kurt and Blaine sitting in their penthouse right now squealing loudly.

"I wouldn't go as far to say that B, but I will admit to absolutely loving Mimi," Rachel said fondly.

"And a lot of people might be surprised to find out that the reason you're so in sync with that character is because you have some very serious similarities in your stories right?" Brittany said in a more serious tone as she rested her chin on a propped up fist.

"Yes we do," Rachel said as she smoothed out her dress (also a Kurt Hummel Design).

"While I know your story a lot of people out there don't and you want to share it with them right?"

"Yes I do," Rachel said lightly smiling.

"And why is that?" Brittany asked softly.

"Because it is a story happening all around the world that no one is talking about," Rachel said relaxing back into her chair.

"Go on and feel free to take your time Rach. You have the whole hour."

"Well I guess it would be best by starting off and really introducing myself," Rachel said facing the audience and the camera's broadcasting across the world. "My name is Rachel Berry-Lopez and I am a recovering drug addict. I have been clean for eight years and three months," Rachel strongly said into the cameras.

"During the summer after my first year at Julliard I lost my fathers Hiram and Leroy Berry to a car accident. There was a head-on collision with a drunk driver and both of the most important men in my life were taken from me."

"That must have been extremely hard on you," Brittany said setting her hand on Rachel's once again and leaving it there.

"It was more than hard. It was devastating. I didn't have the easiest time in school but no matter what I knew that I would go home at the end of every day to my two loving parents," Rachel said, the emotion thick in her voice.

"How did you handle life after the accident?" Brittany asked softly.

"I didn't handle it to tell the truth. I couldn't. I felt so hopeless without them and I lost myself in depression. Eventually I dropped out of school and used what little savings I had left to rent the cheapest apartment I could find in the city. I thought I would die right along with them," Rachel sighed.

"And it only falls from there?" Brittany asked squeezing the woman's hand.

"Yes. After a few months my money had run out and I found myself sitting in the middle of central park penniless and homeless, just waiting for the city to swallow me whole. A man approached me that day and my life just ran out of my control."

"Can you tell us about that man?"

"There are a lot of bad people out there who excel in manipulation and I was the perfect target for him. He took me in that day and gave me work," Rachel said, her eyes shimmering slightly.

"But at a price?" Brittany mused sadly.

"At a very high price," Rachel said nodding slightly. "To put it lightly he capitalized on my depression and insecurities. Through a series of very calculated moves on his part he tore me so far down that I thought I would never get up again. I was resigned to my fate."

"And eventually," Brittany said trailing off.

"And eventually he pushed me into prostitution," Rachel admitted quietly.

"Is that when you started using drugs?" Brittany asked tenderly.

"Around that time," Rachel admitted. "I was so lost. I felt helpless and out of control of anything and everything in my life. To tell the truth I was ready to die at that point in my life."

"How did you come out of that? Did you have the famous "ah-ha" moment?" Brittany asked even though she knew the answer.

"No I didn't," Rachel said dipping her head and smiling lovingly, her eyes meeting Santana's across the set. "I was very lucky. By coincidence an old friend found me and dragged me out of all of that, sometimes kicking and screaming," Rachel chuckled.

"And that old friend?" Brittany asked smirking.

"Is now my wife of five years and the mother of my three year old daughter Hope," Rachel gushed, smiling happily as a family photo of the three flashed across the screen behind them.

"Why do you feel it is so important to tell your story Rachel?" Brittany asked turning back to the brunette.

"Because someone needs to tell it. My story is just like countless other stories. The sex trade is the most profitable business in the world. It is happening right now in every country across the world and it will not stop until every man and woman realizes that it is a problem that we can not afford to ignore any more," Rachel said, her face serious as she looked into the camera.

"I don't come from a broken home. I wasn't abused ever in my childhood. I had two loving parents and even though I had a difficult time at school I had amazing grades and a list of extracurricular activities a mile long. Looking back at my past I'm almost positive that most people would instantly say there was no way that I would have ended up a drug-addicted prostitute."

"I'll admit that there was no way I saw it coming," Brittany said softly, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

"What I'm really saying is that this, my story, it could happen to anyone. There is no prerequisite to that life. All it takes is a few bad decisions…one really bad day…and your life can become so off track you might never recover. I was lucky. A good woman found me and saved my life. But that doesn't always happen, sadly it rarely does. A lot of the people I know from that life never made it out," Rachel said wiping away an errant tear.

"But you did, and since then you have done some truly amazing things," Brittany said handing the brunette a tissue. "Tell us about this organization that you started last year."

"Ah," Rachel said, her eyes showing her pride and excitement at the non-profit she had started. "As I said I have been blessed and I decided that simply talking about this matter wasn't enough. If I truly wanted to change things then I had to do something about it. Together with my beautiful wife Santana, I started the Hiram and Leroy Berry Houses. It is an organization back in New York City that aims to head-off the problem before it starts."

"Can you explain the organization's strategy a little bit? As I understand it, it is actually modeled after the business plan of the man who turned you out. Is that true?" Brittany asked leaning back in her chair.

"Yes it is," Rachel said smiling. "When I was in the early stages of mapping out the organization I thought about him, and how he manipulated people for his own personal gain. And I decided that I wanted to use his weapon of torture against all of the men just like him that are out there today."

"What we do is find people that are in the same place that I was. Young people who come into the city with little to no support systems that have no where to go. We find them and we help them out. We take them off the streets and out of the shelters and give them a safe place to live in one of our dorm style houses and a job working within the house. As they live and work there we teach them job skills that will help them get higher paying jobs so they can rebuild their lives."

"After both they and we are comfortable with their progress we move them into a nicer house where they have their own room and help them find jobs using the skills they have just gained. We also help them apply for scholarships and grants so that they can go or in some cases return to college. And when we're all positive that they are ready we help them find apartments and houses to live in while going to school," Rachel finished, her face shining with undeniable pride and warmth.

"So really you're pretty much a guardian angel in amazing shoes?" Brittany asked smiling widely.

"No, no I'm just a normal small town girl who knows that sometimes all someone needs is one person to tell them that they believe in them, that they will help them. It makes all the difference in the world," Rachel said, her eyes sparkling as she looked towards Santana.

"And I hear there is some other big news coming for your organization?" Brittany fished coyly.

"Yes we are more than excited to be opening identical programs in Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas, and Miami in the next two years."

"You are an amazing woman Rachel Berry-Lopez. Now onto the lighter side of life. Tell me about your family," Brittany teased.

"Oh I can go on for hours about my girls," Rachel said laughing.

"Well you've got another thirty minutes," Brittany laughed, poking the woman's arm.

"What can I say about my family?" Rachel mused, leaning against the palm of her hand. "I have an amazing wife. She is my rock pure and simple. We have been through so much together in the last eight years and never once as she faltered in her devotion to me. She was the one who held me for days when I was going through withdrawals, she is the one that is there for me any time I begin to doubt myself, and she is the woman who goes with me every July 2nd to lay flowers on my father's graves. She is the love of my life," Rachel said smiling lovingly as she looked towards Santana. The crowd clapped wildly as the camera turned to Santana and the Latina smiled shyly and gave a small wave at it as pictures of the couple flashed across the screen.

"And my niece? Tell them about my niece!" Brittany cheered gleefully as pictures of their daughter began to flash across the screen.

"Ah my little Hope," Rachel cooed as a picture of Santana and Rachel seated atop a hospital bed with a tiny pink bundle in their arms flashed behind her. Just looking at the picture you could see the absolute love and devotion the two women not only had for each other but for their daughter as well. Santana had the look of a woman who was completely physically exhausted and indeed she was, Hope's birth taking a grand total of nineteen hours. Rachel only looked slightly better than the Latina, but it was clear from the picture that she had put in her share of the hours as held her wives hand through each and every contraction.

"She is ridiculously adorable," Brittany gushed as a picture of the little girl and herself flashed across the screen. Both of their faces covered in pink and yellow frosting, making the audience laugh happily.

"She is an amazing child," Rachel said smiling proudly. "I know every parent says that their child is the smartest one in the world, but I'm gonna say it anyways," the brunette laughed. "She has got the best out of Santana and me. She is strong and independent and also so loving and gentle."

"Where is the little angel?" Brittany asked looking over to Santana.

"She's currently back in New York with her Aunty Quinn at the moment. She's not too fond of planes," Rachel chuckled.

"So what's next for Rachel Berry-Lopez?" Brittany asked happily. "You've won two Tonys and one Emmy for that amazing episode of Law and Order you did. On top of that I have a list two pages long of various humanitarian awards your organization has snagged. You have your debut album coming out this fall as well as a book due out at the same time about your life. Can we expect to see you in any blockbusters in the next few years? You have the T and E on your EGOT and I'm sure that this album will give you your G. All you need now is an O."

"Well," Rachel said smiling over at her wife. "I definitely plan on branching out into Hollywood but it won't be for a few years."

"And why is that?" Brittany asked, her head cocking adorably to the left.

"I'm taking a few years off to focus on my organization, and my family. Santana, Hope, and a little boy or girl," Rachel said smiling contently as she rested her hands on her stomach.

"Oh my god! You mean?" Brittany asked excitedly, completely oblivious in the moment that she was currently being watched by millions of people.

"I am currently three months pregnant," Rachel beamed out as the audience started clapping for all it was worth. Santana beamed herself as everyone within her general vicinity clapped her on the back and congratulated her enthusiastically.

"I'm so excited for you!" Brittany squealed, pulling the singer into a tight embrace.

"I'm excited for me too!" Rachel laughed as she hugged the woman back whole-heartedly.

"Well there you go people," Brittany said turning back to the cameras. "My beautiful friend Rachel and my best friend Santana will be adding to their beautiful family! And I have some not as great but awesome news for the audience here. You are all getting advanced copies of Rachel's debut album as well as her book. Both baring the titles Falling Stars!"

Again the audience was deafening in their excitement as stage hands started passing out signed copies of the books and CDs and it took almost a minute for Brittany to calm them down before she was able to continue speaking. "And now Ms. Lopez-Berry will be gracing us with a live performance by debuting the title song from that album. Take it away Rach," Brittany cheered as Rachel walked over to the performance stage.

Rachel adjusted the microphone and looked out at the audience for a second before her chocolate brown eyes found her wife's. "This is for my wife, the woman who gave me the strength to rise. I love you Santana."

Santana closed her eyes as the band started playing softly around the petite woman. They had come so far in the last eight years up to this moment. Santana had indeed made partner in her law firm and now she was catching the eyes of several very important people. She didn't want to count her proverbial chickens but she knew that it was only a matter of time before she would be primed to run for the senate. New York Senator Santana Berry-Lopez had an amazing ring to it.

For all that Santana had done well for herself she was easily outdone by the progress that Rachel had made. Santana had spent one year convincing the woman that they could be together, one more year convincing the woman that they were amazing together, and yet another year convincing her that the Latina wanted nothing more than to marry the petite brunette.

It was a beautiful ceremony. They had it back in Lima at a park where Rachel's fathers used to take her to play. All of the Glee kids had come as well as all the friends they had made in New York, including a visit from Johnny Puccini who had given the women an amazing penthouse apartment in Manhattan, a small gift he had said for an amazing lawyer.

Santana's boss Michael Richardson had been the one to walk Santana down the isle, and during the reception he had announced that Santana would be made a Senior Partner at the firm after the honeymoon. Richardson and McDowell would now become Richardson, McDowell, and Lopez.

Noah Puckerman had been the one to walk Rachel down the isle. After the truth had come out about Rachel's life the man had stepped up in a way that no one had ever expected he could. He took it real hard that his childhood friend had fallen so far and he had done nothing to prevent it. The man had moved to the city and been there through thick and thin with the women, and when the couple decided to have children it was Noah they had gone to for a donor. It was more than a surprise when the man had successfully wooed Quinn Fabray and the couple would be celebrating their third year wedding anniversary in two months.

Rachel had graduated Julliard the month before their wedding and when they returned to the City after their honeymoon the woman had dived headfirst into every audition she could get. After two and a half years of hard work on Off-Broadway shows she had landed the roll of Mimi on Broadway that had made her a household name. Her story had been so heartbreaking and she had risen above so much that she had become one of the great American success stories.

And now as her wife began to croon softly into her microphone all Santana could do was look at the amazing woman before her, the amazing woman that had gone through hell and come out clean on the other side. Santana let the words to Rachel's song wash over her like a tidal wave and every word the Songstress sang reverberated deep within her soul.

Well you feel like you're over, before you even began.  
>You feel like you'd never escape, no matter how far you ran.<br>All you can see is your hour glass out of sand.  
>And in that moment baby, all you can do is stand.<p>

Chorus  
>And it's like falling stars, crashing through the sky.<br>There being pulled down, right before your eyes,  
>But baby, just hold on, push through all lies<br>And remember for every star that falls another, another will rise.

Well the nights are long, and the heavens are so wide,  
>And oh baby sometimes all you'll want to do is hide,<br>And you're gonna feel like all your dreams were lies,  
>And in that moment baby, all you can do is rise.<p>

Chorus  
>And it's like falling stars, crashing through the sky.<br>There being pulled down, right before your eyes,  
>But baby, just hold on, push through all lies<br>And remember for every star that falls another, another will rise.

Chorus  
>And it's like falling stars, crashing through the sky.<br>They're being pulled down, right before your eyes,  
>But baby, just hold on, push, through all lies<br>And remember for every star that falls another, another will rise.

And child! Oh Child! You're just a falling star, crashing through the sky!  
>You're being pulled down, right before your eyes!<br>But Baby, just hold on, and push through all those lies!  
>And remember that for every star that falls, another, another will rise!<p>

As the band faded out and the audience roared with enthusiastic awe Rachel's eyes met the Latina's and she smiled softly. Holding her stomach that was just barely starting to show she winked at her wife. "I love you," she mouthed slowly to the cheer of the crowd.

"And I love you," Santana mouthed back at her star.

_"You must carry a chaos inside you to give birth to a dancing star."  
>-Nietzsche<em>


End file.
